


Cry for the Moon

by dandelion_clock



Series: Cry for the Moon [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, Marauders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-04-23 07:08:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 24
Words: 23,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14327223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelion_clock/pseuds/dandelion_clock
Summary: Sirius prowls, restless and irritable, around the house. Even in his human form he’s like a caged dog. It makes the wolf itch under Remus's skin. Makes him want to snarl and snap.A year at Grimmauld Place.





	1. Prologue

He was sleeping, he thinks, but now he isn't. Molly's here and he must have got up to open the door because…well, because he's up and she's here. She's saying something, and he's not quite sure how long she's been talking for, but he's pleased to see her. He's always liked her, with her round, expressive face and her impetuous temper. 

'Sirius fancied you,' he says. 'Did he ever tell you that? Of course he was twelve and you were twenty two, so it would never have worked out. Well…' He considers. 'Not for you. I guess it worked out for me, didn't it?'  
There's something wrong with that but he can't quite remember what. And anyway he gets distracted because someone behind Molly makes a choked sound.  
'Remus, are you _drunk?'_  
_'Tonks!'_ he says, delighted. He likes her too. He _really_ does. Sirius doesn't but that's because he - he's not - 

Remus must have had a bad dream before he woke because there's something horrible lurking at the corner of his consciousness. But he shakes it off. 

Where was he? Sirius doesn't like Tonks, but that's because Sirius is an idiot. Always was. Doesn't understand how beautiful he is, that he could have anyone he wants. It's just as well for Remus really, but then again it's not. Because (has he mentioned?) Sirius is an _idiot_. As if Remus would ever, apart from that _one time_ , and that was - well, that was different because - 

'I can't _bear_ this,' Tonks blurts.  
'What's that spell?' Molly asks. 'Antioxidasomething, we used to use it all the time before the children were born. Antioxi…Antitoxi… _damn_ it.'

Remus realises, all of a sudden, what she's about. Backs away, palms raised. 'No. Molly. Not that.'  
She frowns at him. 'Remus, it doesn't hurt.'  
'It does.' He knots his brows, needing to explain to her the absolute importance of something he can't quite grasp himself. 'Hurts,' he tells her, 'if I'm not drunk.' 

'Oh Merlin,' Tonks whispers.  
'Remus,' Molly says gently, 'you can't stay drunk for the rest of your life.' 

But what does she know? He did pretty well last time, didn't he? Three years straight without a sober moment, after the war ended. After James and Lily died and they sent Sirius to - 

_To Azkaban._

Is that where Sirius is? Because it wasn't Sirius's fault. It was Peter's, he remembers that quite distinctly. So Peter should be in Azkaban and… _where is Sirius?_ Sirius should be here, safe with Remus, and something must have gone terribly wrong because he _isn't_ … 

He must have lost track of time because he seems to be sitting on the floor. Someone is sobbing harshly, and Tonks is saying in an anguished voice, 'Molly, we have to make this _stop_.' 

And then Molly says _'Soporificus,'_ and everything goes quiet and dark. 


	2. Chapter 2

'So this is Grimmauld Place.'  
'Awful, isn't it?'  
'I always thought you were making it up about the mounted house-elf heads.'  
Sirius snorts. 'You couldn't make my family up.' And then, expression turning morose, 'You've heard that Dumbledore's grounded me?'  
'I know it's not much fun, Sirius, but - '  
'Alright, spare me the lecture! I'm planning to behave myself.' 

The first meeting of the reconvened Order is taking place here tonight. Remus arrived early, for reasons it's difficult to articulate. 

'How many people are we expecting?'  
'No idea. They'll probably all fit in the kitchen.'  
'The - '  
'It's the only room that isn't booby-trapped with hexes or overrun with magical vermin.'  
'So that. I mean. The writing-desk - '  
'I thought it was just a boggart to start with. But it's rattling rather alarmingly, isn't it?' 

In the year since Sirius's escape from Hogwarts Remus has only seen him once. About a week ago, in fact, when Sirius appeared, in the small hours of the morning, to tell him that Voldemort was back. 

'A poltergeist?'  
'You reckon?'  
'Perhaps.' 

Sirius sent a few owls before that. All brief, witty and cautiously affectionate. Abiding by the terms, Remus thinks, that they somehow set in the Shrieking Shack. 

_Forgive me, Remus._  
_Not at all, Padfoot._

'I'd like to leave the whole damn place to rot.'  
'I can help if you like. With decontamination and…stuff.'  
'You mean _house cleaning,_ Remus?'  
'That's. Well. Yes.' 

Those terms seem rather tenuous now, in the context of Sirius's physical presence. Of his wasted body and his tangled dark curls, his restless irritability, and his haunted eyes. 

'I imagine Dumbledore's going to assign you to rather more important affairs.'  
'It's not…you know he trusts you, don't you?'  
'I don't think the crafty old bird trusts anyone.'  
'But - '  
'I'm going to do what he tells me, alright? With Voldemort back he's the best hope we have. I'm just so _fucking_ _sick_ of being locked up.' 

He sounds furious and frustrated and almost childish, and guilt rises like bile in Remus's throat. Because if it hadn't been for the wolf… 

'Sirius, I'm sorry. About that night. If I'd remembered to take the wolfsbane - '  
'Why the hell were you taking wolfsbane?'  
Remus blinks. Suddenly nonplussed. 'It sedates the wolf - '  
'You mean you tranquillise yourself! Moony, what the _fuck?'_  
'Sirius, the wolf could have _killed Harry_. If Padfoot hadn't been there - '  
'But I _was_ there, wasn't I? And you didn't kill anybody!'  
Remus almost wants to laugh. 'Sirius, would you just let me say sorry?'  
'Remus, if you'd arrived two minutes later than you did I would have been toast.So for fuck's sake get over yourself.' 

Oh. 

Right. 

'And it doesn't change the fact,' Sirius continues relentlessly, 'that you've been dosing yourself with poison. No wonder you look like crap.' 

Remus breathes. 

It's true, he knows, that he's no bombshell these days. The wolf has worn his body thin. There are spidery lines at the corners of his eyes and his hair is generouslystreaked with white. But he can't pretend it doesn't sting to hear it coming from _Sirius Black._

'Sirius,' he says, as calmly as he can. 'You don't really have the right to comment on my life choices.'  
For a moment Sirius looks as if he's been slapped. And then his expression turns mutinous. 'I'm your friend. A friend can be worried.'  
'Alright,' Remus says snippily. He knows it's petty but it just slips out. 'How about we agree that you don't have the right to comment on my personal appearance?'  
'Oh _Merlin,_ Remus, I didn't mean - '  
'It's fine.'  
'I'm your friend and I'm concerned!'  
'You're my ex and you're a plonker!' 

Unexpectedly, Sirius gives a snort of amusement, and Remus feels his own face break into a reluctant grin. It's a ridiculous conversation, after all, for two grown men to be having. Especially men who've done what they've done, and seen what they've seen. 

Sirius shakes his head. 'Were we always this bad?' 

_Sometimes, yes,_ Remus thinks. _But sometimes we were better and sometimes we were worse. Sometimes we were perfectly in tune, and other times we tore each other to shreds._

'You were always bossy and opinionated, if that's what you mean,' he says instead.  
It's the right thing to say, because the fond smile stays in place on Sirius's face.  
'Git.'  
'Prat.'  
'Come on. You can help me set up.' 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the films are generally accepted as canon but I haven’t seen any of them in years and they’re not part of my headcanon. So please try not to imagine Gary Oldman and David Thewlis when you read this! I’ve got nothing against them as actors but they’re not who I see when I read the books.
> 
> My Sirius is tall and ridiculously beautiful but, post-Azkaban, in a ravaged, rock-star kind of way. 
> 
> And Remus is not-particularly-tall, and unwell-looking, and too thin, but with a quiet, diffident charm.
> 
> Also they’re both in their thirties, not their forties. 
> 
> I like to believe I got all this from the books, but I’m probably projecting a lot because I’m a bit in love with both of them :-)


	3. Chapter 3

_'You're going the wrong way.'_  
_'Sorry?'_  
_'You're looking for Potions, right?'_  
_'I. Yes.'_  
_The boy with messy hair grins. 'It's the other way,' he says._

_It's two days until the full moon and Remus feels as if he's too big for his skin. The wolf is a constant thrum of impatience and longing, crowding the human thoughts out of his brain._

_Hunt._

_Howl. _

_Pack. _

_Run._

_Begin again._

_Also it's his first morning at Hogwarts and he's already late for Potions._

_'We're in Gryffindor too,' the messy-haired boy explains. 'This is Sirius.' He nudges his companion. 'And I'm James.'_

_James has mischievous hazel eyes on either side of a rather long nose. And 'Sirius' Remus already noticed, yesterday evening during the sorting, because…he's difficult not to notice._

_He's tall for his age and rather beautiful, with large, storm-grey eyes and sweeping cheekbones. He moves with an air of casual self-assurance and speaks with a drawl that makes him sound arrogant._

_Up close Remus can see that his eyelashes are long and sooty._

_Up close he makes Remus's stomach flip in a strange way._

_'Hello,' Sirius says._

_Up close, actually, he doesn't seem quite so terrifyingly confident. There's a slight colour in his cheeks and he's looking at Remus in a way that's oddly hopeful. Maybe, Remus thinks, the drawl isn't intentional._

_Maybe it's just his accent._

_'Hello,' Remus manages._  
_James is still grinning. 'What's your name?'_  
_'Oh.' Remus feels himself flush. 'R - Remus.'_  
_'Nice to meet you,' James says cheerfully. 'Come on. We'd better get to class.'_

  


~

  


There's a strange tension as the Order assembles. Members arrive, alone or in small groups, and trickle down to the vast kitchen in the basement. They mutter together in clusters, eyeing one another and casting doubtful glances at Sirius. They all know why they're here, of course, but half of them, Remus suspects, don't really believe it yet. And as for being asked to accept that _Sirius Black is_ _innocent_ …everyone's familiar with the evidence, including a testimony from Dumbledore himself, that proves conclusively that he isn't. 

By nine p.m. about thirty people are crowded into the kitchen. Around a third are familiar to Remus, mostly as original Order members. Emmeline Vance, he's glad to see, and Rubeus Hagrid, and Alastor Moody. The remainder of the crowd are strangers, and many of them seem shockingly young. An attractive boy with a ponytail and a pixie-like girl with purple hair, who surely ought to be in school, are sniggering together at the far end of the room. 

'Andromeda's kid,' says Sirius behind him. 'Nymphadora Tonks.'  
'Is she old enough to be here?'  
'She's a qualified Auror.'  
'Best in her year,' someone else growls. It's Moody, lurkingat Sirius's shoulder like a badly weathered and paranoid gargoyle.  
'Alastor,' Remus says. Feeling unexpectedly affectionate.  
Moody gives him a friendly-enough nod. 'Wish it were under happier circumstances.' His magic eye spins like an enormous gobstone and settles on Sirius for a tense moment. And then he sniffs. 'Always had my doubts about that Pettigrew chap. Twitchy little fellow. I had my suspicions.'  
Sirius's face brightens and Remus feels his own chest lighten.  
'You're looking well,' he says to Moody. 'I heard. Um. About the trunk.'  
Moody's face spasms slightly. 'Nasty business,' he says darkly. 'Just goes to show you can't trust anyone.' 

Remus is about to respond but a silence has stolen across the room. Looking round he sees Dumbledore standing quietly by the door. Severus Snape is at his side, looking characteristically beaky and dour. And a thin, balding, bespectacled man, clutching several rolls of parchment, is partially blocked by Severus's shoulder. 

'Isn't that - '  
'Arthur Weasley,' Sirius murmurs. 'He's hard to recognise without the hair.' 

Remus forces down a laugh. He remembers Arthur Weasley well. He's somehow related to Sirius (like almost every english pureblood) and he and his spirited wife Molly used to be very good value at parties. Remus recalls them as excellent sorts and liked all the Weasley kids he taught at Hogwarts. But there's something ever-so-slightly tragic about Arthur without his ginger mullet. 

'Maybe it ran off,' Sirius mutters. 'It's probably living in a cave somewhere, along with Celestina Warbeck's eyebrows and Mundungus Fletcher's - '  
'Sirius, stop it!' Remus hisses.  
'I'm just saying - '  
'I'm serious!' 

Sirius huffs but stops talking, to Remus's immense relief. Everyone else is waiting in silence, their faces solemn and expectant. 

And now Dumbledore steps forward. 

'Ladies and gentlemen,' he says soberly. 'It makes me very sad but also very proud to find you gathered here tonight. This is the first council, in almost fourteen years, of the Order of the Phoenix.' 


	4. Chapter 4

_'You all right?'_  
_It's Sirius and he's frowning a bit, with his hands stuffed deep in his pockets._  
_Remus nods. 'Yes. I'm fine.'_  
_'Where've you been?'_  
_'Hospital wing.'_  
_The frown gets more concentrated._  
_'You weren't,' James says, appearing beside Sirius. 'I mean, we were worried so we checked.'_  
_'P - private room.'_  
_'What was wrong?'_  
_'I have a condition. With my lungs.'_  
_'Can't the healers fix you?' Sirius asks._  
_'No,' Remus says. 'They, um. They can't.'_  
_'You still don't look too hot,' James says, sounding good-naturedly sympathetic._  
_'I'm okay really.' Remus's throat hurts. 'I just need to catch up with homework.'_  
_Sirius looks down at Remus's parchment. 'Is that the herb table for Professor Slughorn?'_  
_'Yes, it's. Um. It shouldn't take long.'_  
_'You can copy mine later. Come up to the dorm. James's mum's sent some brilliant tuck.'_  


  


~

  


The meeting goes on for almost four hours. Remus is heavy-hearted and exhausted by the time they finish talking strategy and move on to Order administration. Arthur Weasley takes over for this, checking off points on a handwritten list. Chains of command and communication, the magical encryption of messages, and levels of security clearance. 

'Grimmauld Place, as you may have guessed, is protected by the Fidelius charm, with Professor Dumbledore as the secret-keeper. It will henceforth function as Order headquarters. Sirius Black will reside here, as will - ' Arthur breaks off and squints at his notes and then shoots Dumbledore a startled look. Dumbledore, however, is gazing benignly at the ceiling. 'As will,' Arthur continues, in a slightly a bemused voice, 'Remus Lupin.' 

Remus feels himself go cold and then hot, the blood rushing to his face and his heart fluttering like a frightened bird. But no one else says anything, or even raises an eyebrow at him. 

Arthur clears his throat. 'Right. Well. Finally, the matter of Expenses...' 

The meeting winds up shortly after that. At least half the crowd disappears into the night but Sirius and Mundungus are handing round drinks and Remus, still a little dazed, finds himself sipping claret and making small-talk with a handsome young man called Kingsley Shacklebolt. 

He's alert enough, though, to seize the moment when he sees Dumbledore gliding past. 'Professor, could I have a word?'  
Dumbledore smiles. 'I was just about,' he says serenely, 'to have a snoop around the library. Other people's houses are so fascinating, aren't they? Would you care to accompany me?'  
_Fascinating_ isn't the first word that Remus would use to describe Grimmauld Place. But he nods and follows Dumbledore up the stairs from the basement. 

'Professor,' he says, as they walk. 'I'm sure you have your reasons but it's really not…I mean, I _can't._ I can't livein this house!'  
'Come now,' Dumbledore says, sounding gently amused. 'It's a little dusty, I'll admit, and the decor _is_ rather archaic. But a good spring clean and a lick of paint - '  
'That's not - you _know_ that's not what I'm talking about!'  
Dumbledore sighs. 'Remus, you must be aware that I have effectively placed Sirius under house arrest.'  
'You're not expecting me to _supervise_ him?'  
'Certainly not. I am hoping you will prevent him from, to use his own phrase, _going barking mad.'_  
'Sirius has _agreed_ to this?'  
'I confess I haven't consulted him.'  
'We broke up,' Remus says desperately. 'You know that, right? We didn't grow apart, or decide to be friends, or…we had a vicious, messy, horrible _break up.'_  
'Yes,' Dumbledore says equably. 'I was aware of it.'  
'So me living here is more likely to aggravate Sirius than it is to keep his spirits up!'  
'Remus, you underestimate yourself.'  
'But - '  
'I’ve often had opportunity to note the value of your influence on Sirius.' 

Perhaps it was true once, Remus thinks. But that was back when Sirius _wanted_ him. 

Remus has never been particularly vain. Knows he was a slight, pretty boy who grew into a slight, attractive man. A peaky child, a pale-and-interesting teenager, and a twenty-something with narrow hips, and wide blue eyes, and soft brown lashes. But he’s also conscious of how much he’s changed and the crackle of energy that comes off Sirius makes him feel dusty, and brittle, and used-up. Like a dry old broomstick left in a cupboard. 

'Besides,' Dumbledore continues, 'Sirius's wellbeing is not my only concern.'  
'What - '  
' _Your_ wellbeing,' Dumbledore says, with a surprisingly severe look on his face. 'Your present lodgings are both unsafe and insalubrious. And as for the arrangement you currently have for obtaining wolfsbane potion - ' 

The bottom falls out of Remus's stomach. 

'How do you - ?'  
'I have my sources.'  
'It's not - '  
'From now on,' Dumbledore interrupts calmly,'Severus will brew the potion for you, as he did when you were teaching at Hogwarts.'  
_'Severus?_ He's agreed to that?'  
'Of course he has.' 

Remus's cheeks feel unpleasantly hot. What else, he wonders, does Dumbledore know about the compromises he's made? About the pieces of himself he's given away? 

But Dumbledore puts a hand on his shoulder. 'This isn't,' he says gently, 'a moral intervention. I know you have had to make difficult choices and I would never presume to judge you for it. But we are at war now and I cannot allow you, as a member of the Order, to take undue risks with either your person or your reputation.' 

Remus lets his eyes slip shut for a moment. Lets himself, just for a moment, feel a strange kind of relief. There's a war on and he's Dumbledore's soldier. There's a war on and he's going to live at Grimmauld Place, and have wolfsbane potion brewed for him by Severus Snape. 

He can say goodbye to the draughty squat that he's called a home for the past six months. And he won't have to go back to Knockturn Alley, to number twenty-three with the creaking staircase... 

Behind him there's a clatter and a squeak of laughter, and he turns to see Nymphadora Tonks hare across the room, hotly pursued by her good-looking friend, and leap onto a dusty _chaise longue_. 

'Give it back!'  
'What's it worth?'  
'Damn it, Tonks!'  
'Can I name my price?'  
Ponytail sags. 'Yes. Alright.'  
'Who were you seeing on Friday night?'  
'I wasn't - '  
'You were wearing your vipertooth coat! And _eau de tentacula._ You only put that on when you - '  
'Merlin, Tonks!'  
'Well?'  
'Fleur! She's called Fleur Delacour.'  
'I know that name.' Nymphadora hops off the chair. 'Isn't she part Veela?'  
'She. Uh.'  
'That good?'  
'We didn't!' Ponytail yelps. 'She. Um. She just finished school. I don't think she's. You know.'  
'Oh. Right.' Nymphadora hands him a small scroll of parchment, tied up with a large and very pink ribbon. 'It's cool,' she says seriously, 'if this is different. Mate, no judgement.'  
Ponytail's cheeks are as pink as the ribbon. 'Tonks…'  
'And I won't tell anyone! Your reputation is safe in my hands.'  
Ponytail smiles, rather sheepishly. 'Why do I not feel too good about that?'  
'Because, Bill, you always underestimate me. Now come on,' Nymphadora says, turning around. 'We should - ' 

And she stops short. 

Remus doesn't know how his own face looks but Dumbledore's eyes are dancing with amusement. 

'I must apologise,' Dumbledore says. 'We didn't mean to eavesdrop.'  
Nymphdora opens her mouth, and closes it when Ponytail kicks her ankle. 'I'm sorry,' Ponytail says earnestly. 'We didn't mean to interrupt.'  
'And we forgive you,' Dumbledore says promptly. 'I don't believe either of you have met Remus? Remus Lupin, this is Bill Weasley, and this is Nymphadora - '  
'Tonks.'  
'Sorry?'  
'That's what everyone calls me.'  
'Tonks.' Remus says, trying it out.  
'Yes.' She smiles at him. Her smile is nice.  
'It's nice to meet you, Mr. Lupin.'  
'Remus.' 

Remus excuses himself soon after that. It's almost two in the morning and his eyeballs hurt. He's in the dark, echoing hallway, sneaking past Mrs Black's portrait, when he almost walks into Sirius. He seems very tall, looming out of the shadows, his features cadaverous in the faint glow of gaslight. 

'Hi.'  
'Hello.'  
'Everything alright?'  
'Just seeing Mundungus out. Drunk as a skunk.' Sirius rolls his eyes but he looks amused. 'Didn't want him crashing about.' 

Sirius always did like Mundungus Fletcher, or at least found him highly entertaining. Remus supposes it isn't surprising. Mundungus has the mischievous charm, and the sly intelligence, of a circus baboon. In Remus's opinion he also has a baboon's tact, discretion and personal hygiene, but perhaps Remus is prejudiced. 

Mundungus seems to naturally flourish, like mould on the ceiling, or cockroaches under the kitchen sink, in the kind of spaces that Remus, at various low points in the past decade, has been forced to inhabit. 

He's like a bandy-legged, saggy-faced representation of the things Remus wishes he could forget about himself. 

A representation with halitosis. 

'I'd better be going,' Remus says.  
'Right.'  
'I'll. Um. I'll move my things in on Wednesday, I guess. I don't have much.'  
'You're going to live here?' Sirius sounds surprised.  
'Dumbledore's orders.'  
Sirius shrugs. Nonchalant. 'I thought you'd talk him out of it.'  
Something twists in Remus's chest. 'No,' he says. _I tried._ 'I didn't.'  
Sirius's face does something odd that resolves into a grimace. 'At least you won't be trapped in this place.'  
Remus snorts. 'It's not a pity contest, you idiot.'  
'I win anyway.'  
'Boo hoo.'  
'Sod off.'  
'I'll see you on Wednesday.' 

  


~

  


The night that James and Lily died Remus and Sirius hadn't spoken for months. 

Their last fight had been the brutal climax of weeks of quarrels and misunderstandings. Sirius had finally stormed out of the flat and, after a long and sleepless night, Remus had packed his things and decamped. He'd left a short, impersonal note asking Sirius to stay out of his life. 

The months that followed had been miserable ones, filled with heartbreak and loneliness. But his self-pity seemed almost naive in the light of October's nightmarish events. 

The anger and resentment Remus had felt towards his irrational, pig-headed ex-lover in no way helped to make sense of the acts of a cold-blooded, ruthless killer. But then nothing made sense to Remus any more. The war had ended, but not before sweeping away (with a few deft, devastating strikes, almost like an afterthought) everything he'd had to fight for. 

And Remus sank. Accepted defeat. 

It's easy to blame the wolf for the fact that he's never held down a real job. But drink and despair have played their part. If Remus is honest the way he spent the eighties, in Muggle squats and bedsits or on the street, was easier than the alternative. 

Was easier than trying to live in a society that had turned his best friends into martyrs, and the boy he'd been in love with into a monster. 


	5. Chapter 5

_'We've got to get rid of him!' Sirius hisses._  
_James looks bewildered. 'Who?'_  
_Sirius rolls his eyes. 'Pettigrew! He's following us around like a bad smell.'_  
_James shrugs. 'Peter's alright.'_  
_'Yeah, well. You would think that, wouldn't you? '_  
_'What do you mean?'_  
_'The way he moons after you!'_  
_James goes a little pink. 'What do you expect me to do about it?'_  
_'Look,' Sirius says, sounding reasonable. 'He may be okay but he's not one of us. He's fat, and he's rubbish at Quidditch, and' - his beautiful mouth curves in almost comical disgust - 'I can't stand the way he sniffs.'_  
_'He has allergies,' Remus says, to his own considerable surprise._  
_'You what?' says Sirius, with a startled look._

_Remus still finds it hard to believe that James and Sirius are his friends. They're both so clever and so confident, so effortlessly good at everything they try. But he can't help worrying, now and then, that they're a little bit unkind._

_He takes a deep breath. 'I like him,' he says. 'I've never heard him say a mean thing about anybody, and he can't help his nose running, he has rhinoconjunctivitis, he told me about it. And,' he juts his chin a little and looks Sirius in the eye, 'I'm no good at Quidditch, am I?'_

_Sirius and James are looking at him as if he's been replaced by a talking rabbit. It's probably the longest speech, and certainly the most assertive, that Remus has made since the day they met._

_'But,' Sirius says, rather blankly. 'Well, it's different, isn't it?'_  
_'How?' Remus asks stubbornly._  
_'You're you!' Sirius waves a hand vigorously, as if to demonstrate all the ways in which Remus isn't Peter Pettigrew._

_Remus wonders what Sirius would think if he knew what really sets them apart._

_That Peter isn't a monster, and Remus is._

_'I like him,' he repeats._

_Sirius gives an exasperated huff. 'Fine,' he says, irritably. 'I guess I'll have to put up with him, if you both insist.'_

  


~

  


With the flimsiest of extension charms all Remus's worldly goods fit into a single suitcase. It's a small, green, battered thing, partly held together with string, that his mother bought him when he started at Hogwarts. 

It's the suitcase he packed fourteen years ago when he walked out of Sirius's Chelsea apartment. 

It looks out of place, and rather forlorn, sitting on the broad window-seat in his grandiose new bedroom. 

'Where are you sleeping?' he asks Sirius.  
'Three doors down,' Sirius tells him. 'And Buckbeak's in the master bedroom, just across the landing.'  
_'Buckbeak?'_  
'The hippogriff.'  
'In the _master bedroom?'_  
'He's domesticated,' Sirius says irritably. 'What else was I meant to do with him?'  
There's a slightly stubborn tilt to his chin and Remus decides to leave the matter alone. It's none of his business, after all, if Sirius wants to keep a fugitive hippogriff hidden in his ancestral home.  
'What are you doing for meals?' he asks instead.  
'There's a house elf, but he - ' Sirius's grimace is one part pity and nine parts disgust. 'He's pretty much lost it. I've been making do for myself.' 

He's probably living, Remus thinks, on black coffee and burnt toast. Sirius used to be a terrible cook, mostly because culinary magic bored him, and it seems unlikely that he's any better after spending a decade in Azkaban. 

'I could. If you want. We could draw up a rota or something.'  
'Why not?' Sirius says, sounding indifferent. 

It doesn't take Remus long to unpack. He hangs his robes in the damp-smelling wardrobe and puts his favourite books on the nightstand, and then wanders downstairs feeling rather lost. He finds Sirius slouched on a chair in the kitchen with a 1975 Quidditch almanac. 

'Coffee?'  
'I'd love some.'  
'It should still be hot.' 

Remus pours himself a cup and takes a treacle-dark, treacle-sweet sip. And suddenly the world spins backwards. 

Sirius in his dressing-gown, reading the cartoons on the back of the _Daily Prophet,_ and the smell of scrambled eggs burning. 

Taking breakfast back to bed (whatever Remus was able to salvage) and inevitably getting distracted. 

Too-sweet coffee going cold on the night-stand. 

'You alright?'  
'Yes. Um.' Back in Grimmauld Place's gloomy kitchen, Remus blinks down into his mug.  
Sirius clears his throat slightly, and Remus wonders, for a horrible moment, if all those memories played out across his face. But all Sirius says is, 'Any plans today?'  
'Nothing exciting. A few owls to write.'  
'Anyone I know?'  
'Not really, no.'  
'How's your dad?'  
'He. Um.'  
'Oh crap. I'm sorry.'  
'It's okay.' 

It's not, really. It's a raw, scraped-out hollow in his chest. Protecting his father from his own inadequacies had mean keeping his distance, and they hadn't spoken in over six months when Remus received the news of his death. 

'When?'  
'What?'  
'When did he - '  
'Three years ago.'  
'Bet your mam was over the moon to see him.'  
There's a slight lilt in Sirius's voice that makes Remus smile in spite of himself. He'd lost his Welsh accent by their second year at Hogwarts but Sirius never stopped mocking him for it.  
'Yes. She was probably getting impatient.' 

Remus's brave, beautiful mother died suddenly and unexpectedly shortly after his eighteenth birthday. A congenital heart defect, the Muggle doctors said. Remus was completely floored by her death, unable to comprehend or cope with it. His mother had been daisy-chains and nursery rhymes, had read him _Anne of Green Gables_ and _Alice in Wonderland_. The packages she'd sent him at Hogwarts contained Jane Austen novels and pressed flowers, and long, intimate, neatly typed letters. 

She still looked like a girl when she died, with her big blue eyes and her chestnut curls. He imagines her waiting for his father on the other side, lips slightly pursed and tapping her foot. 

'Yeah, well.' Sirius huffs an almost-laugh. 'My mother's probably chasing my father round seven hells with a white-hot pitchfork.'  
Remus winces. 'Sirius - '  
'I'm not going to pretend I'm sorry she's dead.' 

Remus doesn't think he has the courage or the strength, just now, to tackle Sirius's family issues. So instead he makes a face and says, 'What in Merlin's name are we going to do with her portrait?' 


	6. Chapter 6

_'Remus? Remus!'_

_Blood in his mouth. The smell of it everywhere._

_'Remus, wake up! '_

_She's dead, he killed her, he ripped her throat out \- _

_'Nobody's dead! Remus, wake up!'_

_He's drenched in sweat, and shaking with cold, with the sheets tangled round his legs. And a circle of pale, anxious faces are peering down at him out of the shadows._

_'What - '_  
_'You were having a nightmare,' someone says. It's James, sounding authoritative. 'You starting yelling and…crying, a bit. So we thought we'd better wake you up.'_  
_'Sounded like you were being murdered,' Frank Longbottom adds. 'Merlin, I nearly had a heart attack.'_  
_'Sod off, Frank,' Sirius says. 'Like you don't snore as loudly as a Hebridean Ridgeback.'_  
_A couple of the other boys snigger a bit._  
_'Sorry,' Remus says, sitting up. 'Sorry, I - '_

_It's too late, she's gone, it's …_

_Just a dream._

_'Don't worry, mate,' James says bracingly. 'It was just a nightmare. Nothing to be embarrassed about.'_  
_'It's okay,' Sirius adds, more quietly. And Remus feels a warm hand close around his wrist._  
_'Sorry,' Remus says again. 'It's stupid, I just - '_  
_'Seriously, it's fine.' James grimaces, with an exaggerated shudder. 'I used to have this recurring dream about giant spiders…'_

  


~

  


Remus pictured himself and Sirius rattling round dismally in Grimmauld Place. But instead the house is bursting with activity over the next few weeks. 

The whole Weasley family has moved in for the summer so that Arthur and Molly can help set up headquarters. Hermione Granger is staying with the Weasleys, Nymphadora Tonks is always popping in and out, and Mundungus Fletcher seems to have become an almost permanent fixture. While other Order members drop by frequently on business and very often stay for dinner.

In other words the house is filled with chaos, mischief, noise and laughter.

Initially they occupy a few bedrooms on the third floor. Only these, and the vast kitchen in the basement, are really fit for habitation. But Molly Weasley is an indomitable spirit, at the head of a shambolic army of teenagers, and as the days go by dust, doxies and hexed furnishings are ruthlessly vanquished.

Remus isn't actually sure how far the building goes up, but he's certain there are more floors on the inside than the out. Things thump and wail far about their heads at night, and it doesn't sound like bats in the chimney stacks. Nevertheless it's rather cheerful compared to a few places Remus has lived.

The only person oblivious to the happy bustle is Sirius.

Sirius prowls, restless and irritable, around the house. Even in his human form he's like a caged dog. It makes the wolf itch under Remus's skin. Makes him want to snarl and snap.

'Can't you find something to do with yourself?'  
'What? Dusting cornices?'  
'I could get you a Mugglevision.'  
'Seriously, fuck off.'  
'You used to like watching it.'  
'Are you _trying_ to wind me up?'

Remus isn't sure himself.

Sirius slouches into a chair. 'Merlin, I wish Harry was here.'

Always _Harry._ Harry who he escaped Azkaban to protect. Harry who mattered enough to fight for, when no one else was sufficiently important.

'Dumbledore says he's safer where he is.'  
'Yeah, well. _Dumbledore_ says.'

Remus is away for days at a time, on highly classified Order business. And in between missions Dumbledore's assigned him to tutor the younger Order members in Magical Duelling and Defence Against the Dark Arts. His pupils include Nymphadora Tonks, in spite of the professional training she has. Remus tried to argue the point but Dumbledore gently overruled him. ('An Auror is a highly skilled magical policeman. Regrettable as it is, I need _soldiers,_ Remus.')

As it happens he very much likes Tonks, with her loud hair, and her cheerful clumsiness, and her big mouth. She's like an open window, he thinks, in this dusty, malevolent house.

'Fred and George want to open a joke shop,' she tells him. 'After they graduate.' She's perched on the edge of the vast mahogany dining table, kicking her heels against one of the legs.  
'That sounds like fun.'  
She scrunches her nose. 'I'm not sure they really know there's a war on.'  
'It doesn't hurt to forget that sometimes.'  
She looks at him curiously. 'Do you?'  
'I try.'  
'It's just, you know, you don't smile much. Or you do with your mouth but your eyes stay serious.'  
'Um.' Why are they talking about _him,_ again?

Tonks squints for a moment in concentration, and suddenly she's sprouting two velvety rabbit's ears. She cocks her head to one side, and her nose twitches.

Caught off guard, Remus laughs out loud.

'There,' she says. 'Feels better, doesn't it?'


	7. Chapter 7

_'Hey! Remus!'_

_It's James, waving from across the lawn. He's sitting next to Peter and Sirius, in the shade of a beech tree by the lake, and Remus crosses the grass to join them. The sun is high in the clear blue sky, and the air has the rich warmth of late afternoon._

_'Wotcher, Remus,' Sirius says casually. He's sprawled on his front, leafing through a comic-book, but he glances up with a friendly grin._  
_'Have your lungs been bad?' Peter asks._  
_Remus forces himself not to wince. 'No, I. I went home. My grandmother was sick.'_  
_'Is she okay now?'_  
_'She's fine. Thanks.'_

_He's always careful to vary his excuses, but however inventive he tries to be - his 'lung condition', a family occasion, someone taken ill at home…his lies sounds weaker with every repetition._

_'You missed a brilliant Flying lesson,' James tells him cheerfully. 'Evan Rosier got stuck in a tree.'_  
_'He looked hilarious,' Sirius adds. 'Hanging upside-down like an overweight bat.'_  
_'Or a vampire with a fruitcake habit!'_  
_'Or an unusually ugly clabbert…'_

_Remus laughs along with them. Evan Rosier's a thug and a bully, and it serves him right it he looked a bit silly._

_But there's a cold, unpleasant knot in his stomach, that's partly guilt, and partly uncertainty. There've been nine full moons since he started at Hogwarts, and James and Sirius ought to be suspicious. They're usually so smart, and so ruthlessly inquisitive, but for some reason they keep swallowing Remus's excuses._

_It's possible, of course, that they're just not that interested. Or that Remus is better at lying than he thinks he is._

_But Remus catches Sirius watching him sometimes, and frowning a bit, like he's trying to solve something._

  


~

  


For the first time, on the first day of of August, Severus brings the wolfsbane potion to Grimmauld Place. Seven vials of dark, viscous liquid, neatly lined up in a wooden box. 

'As many doses as you need for this cycle. Take the first one on the - '  
'The sixth. I know.' Remus is more conscious of the lunar cycle than he is of the passing days of the week. 'Thank you, Severus.'  
Severus looks as if he's sucking a lemon, as he always does when he talks to Remus. 'I am doing this at Dumbledore's request.'  
'I know, and I'm very grateful for it.' 

Until he went to teach at Hogwarts Remus had almost forgotten about the real Severus Snape. Severus was just a fight he'd had, a long time ago, with Sirius. An unpleasant and troubling memory, certainly, but Severus's role in it was mostly symbolic. 

He hadn't been prepared in the least for Hogwarts' esteemed Professor of Potions. Tall and sallow, all grown up, and simmering with loathing. 

'You won't stay for dinner?' he asks now.  
'Thank you, but no.'  
'Molly's cooking.'  
'I have several important matters to attend to.' 

Sirius doesn't help, of course, by locking horns with Severus every time he gets a chance. Remus was concerned for Sirius at first, but Sirius seems to find their altercations invigorating. Spends the rest of the day with a swagger in his step. 

It's unlikely, in Remus's opinion, that Severus experiences the same galvanising effect. 

'Next time, maybe.'  
'I'll see myself out.' 

Remus lets him go with a sigh, and then goes up two flights of stairs to lock the potion in his suitcase, and down four to join the others in the kitchen. 

Meals are always lively, and often raucous. The presence of Hermione and the Weasley kids means that they can't talk Order business, and this evening, half way through dessert, the conversation turns to Quidditch. 

After twenty minutes' intense analysis of the 1994 World Cup Remus quietly excuses himself. 

He's lit a cheerful fire in the library, and is comfortably ensconced with _Middlemarch,_ when Bill Weasley slopes into the room.  
'Sorry, am I - '  
'Make yourself at home.'  
Bill pulls a chair up to the fireplace, and then says, 'Can I tell you a terrible secret?'  
'Of course. What is it?'  
'I _hate_ Quidditch.'  
_'Merlin,'_ Remus says, laughing. 'Me too!'  
'All those archaic, pointless rules - '  
'It's so bloody _boring - '_  
'And all the _posturing - '_  
'As if broken noses were remotely attractive - '  
'I know, right?' 

They talk for a while, after that, about nothing particularly important. The topic meandering in the flickering firelight. And Remus is aware of a potential here. Of a familiar electricity in the air. 

Remus has had sex with a lot of people, for a lot of different reasons. Sex for love, sex for fun, sex as promise or transaction. Sex to change the subject, or even to alleviate boredom. Sex is something he finds easy to engage in, with little personal investment. And Bill Weasley is twenty-five, sophisticated, and lovely to look at. 

But he's also clean cut and dandyish, and not really Remus's type. Remus's _proto_ type was Sirius, and ever since he's liked his lovers a little messy and erratic.Bill may have dashing, dragon-skin boots, but he also has a smoothly shaven chin and a well-paid job at Gringotts. 

More importantly Bill is Molly's son, and _twenty five,_ and Remus isn't going anywhere near that. So he lets the thing crackle and fizzle out, rather like the fire eventually does, and bids Bill a friendly goodnight. 

He's almost forgotten about it the following morning when Sirius prowls into the kitchen.  
'Coffee?'  
'What happened to you last night?'  
Remus rolls his eyes and smiles. 'You know how I feel about talking Quidditch.'  
'Apparently you and Bill both.' 

Remus knows that voice. 

_Merlin on a moped._

'Milk?'  
'Black. You haven't changed a bit.'  
'I don't know what you're talking about.'  
'Exactly this! Evading the topic!'  
'And what's the _topic,_ Sirius?'  
'Well, it certainly isn't Quidditch!' 

Sirius stalks out, coffee in hand, and Arthur lowers _The Daily Prophet._  
'Do I want to know what that was all about?'  
Remus rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. 'No,' he says. 'You really don't.' 


	8. Chapter 8

_'We know, Remus.'_

_Remus looks at his three best friends. They're all looking back at him solemnly. And suddenly he knows that this is it. The moment he's been waiting for, with cold dread, since the very first day they met._

_'Know what?' he asks, trying to sound unconcerned. But the words barely make it out of his throat._  
_'We saw you transform,' James explains. 'We…Sirius had sort've guessed. So we followed you out of Hogwarts last night.'_

_It can't be true, Remus thinks in confusion. The wolf would have smelled them - the wolf would have killed them - _

_'We used my cloak,' James tells him. 'And this Olfactoconfunderus charm we'd looked up.'_

_\- but of course James and Sirius planned it all out. They've probably been talking about it for weeks. They had it all planned and they saw him transform, they…_

_Remus's hands and feet feel a long way from the rest of him._

_'Hey.' It's Sirius, standing very close. Tugging him towards the nearest bed. 'Sit down.'_

_Remus sits._

_Breathes._

_Says, 'I'm fine.'_

_'I told you we should wait,' Sirius says to James. 'He's always funny afterwards. For at least three days.'_  
_'I'm fine,' Remus says again. He forces himself to look back up, gaze steady, at his friends. 'I'm sorry I didn't tell you,' he says._  
_'That's okay.' James shrugs. 'Sirius reckons it's because you're ashamed of it.'_  
_Remus digs his fingers into his palms. 'If you. I mean. I'll understand. If you don't want to be my friends - '_  
_'Are you kidding?' Sirius breaks in. _

_He's smiling when Remus looksround at him. Beautiful mouth curved and dark eyes glittering._

_'Our best friend is a werewolf.' he says. 'This is bloody brilliant!'_

  


~

  


Almost as soon as Harry arrives Sirius and Molly have a fight. It's not really anything of importance. Mostly the consequence, Remus thinks, of apprehension working on two fiery temperaments. 

It's noisy and stupid, and unfair on Harry, but far from being Sirius at his worst. Remus recognises this brand of anger. The kind that froths tempestuously on the surface. 

Molly, on the other hand, is evidently rattled and upset. Remus finds her tidying the kitchen after midnight, her face pinched and her eyes rather red. 

'You alright?'  
'I'm sorry. I'm an idiot.'  
'Molly - '  
'I shouldn't have lost my temper with Sirius.'  
'He makes it difficult not to sometimes.'  
'It's only because I'm so horribly frightened.'  
'Me too,' Remus says honestly. 'Molly, Sirius thinks you're terrific. You know that, right? He always has.'  
Molly looks down at her pale, careworn hands. 'I'm not the girl he remembers,' she says. 'I'm a mother now, before everything else.' 

Sirius used to talk with starstruck eyes about headstrong, outspoken Molly Prewett. The girl who'd eloped with his cousin Arthur, and proceeded to blaze an inglorious trail through the stifling social world of elite purebloods. 

'You've still got the temper,' Remus says.  
That makes her laugh, and her shoulders relax. 'Yes,' she says ruefully. 'That I have.'  
'I'm sorry,' Remus adds, looking around. 'This place is a state, and none of us - '  
'I've got seven children,' Molly says. 'I can handle a bit of domestic chaos.'  
'Is there anything I can do to help?'  
'Would you mind washing those plates?' 

Remus tells the dishes _Lavario,_ and watches with a careful eye as they queue up to scrub themselves in the sink. Sirius always uses _Scourgify_ , which is quicker but tends to take the finish off. 

'What about you?' Molly asks. 'I mean, living in this house with Sirius...'  
'Oh, you know. We get by.'  
Molly makes a snorting sound, and when Remus looks round her arms are crossed. 'Remus Lupin, I call _bullshit.'_  
It's impossible not to smile at that. 'Alright,' Remus says wryly. 'It's ridiculously confusing and horribly complicated and will almost certainly end in tears or sex. Quite possibly both.'  
'Might not be a bad thing,' Molly says tartly. 'I think Sirius could do with a bloody good shag.' 

On his way to bed, a little later, he's intercepted by Sirius himself.  
'Conspiring with Molly?'  
'She was upset.'  
'She didn't sound it.' 

Their laughter must have travelled up the stairs. Music to Sirius's paranoid ears. 

'She thinks you're sexually frustrated,' Remus says, and regrets it the moment the words leave his mouth. Because Sirius raises his eyebrows slightly, his face both an offer and a challenge, and he's so fucking tall, and beautiful, and… _terrifying._

Remus tries to ignore the sudden pounding of his heart. Wills the blood not to rise to his cheeks. Adds, lightly, 'I wasn't offering my services.' 

Because it's easy enough to joke with Molly but here in the shadows it's real and serious. Sirius with his hungry eyes, and his wide mouth, and his long, aristocratic fingers. 

Remus swallows. 'Well,' he says. 'Good night.' 

Sirius's face has shut down. 'Night,' he says flatly. 'Sleep tight.' 


	9. Chapter 9

_'No,' Remus says. 'You can't!'_   
_'Don't be daft. We're not going to get caught! We're hardly even breaking the law - '_   
_'No, you don't understand - the wolf. It could hurt you - it could kill you - '_   
_'Haven't you listened to anything we've said?' Sirius points at one of the books that are spread out between them on James's bed. 'Werewolves seek out human prey. Human, Remus!'_   
_'But animagi are human, aren't they? For all we know werewolves can tell \- '_   
_'We're pretty sure they can't, actually.' James picks up a different book and reads out loud with a silly, nasal accent. 'Tabitha Tivorous, in 1615, was tried by Muggles for fraternising with werewolves - '_   
_'Her animagus form was atiger! What if one of you turns into a rabbit?'_   
_Sirius snorts. 'We're not going to - '_   
_'To be fair,' James says, 'Peter might.'_   
_'I would not!'_   
_'You do twitch a lot…'_

_Remus leaves them to their bickering and crosses the dorm to look out of the window. He knows they mean well but it feels like a joke. Like a horrible parody of something he longs for more than he could ever bear to admit._

_'Hey. I'm sorry. We didn't mean to upset you.' Sirius has walked over to stand beside him._   
_'It doesn't matter,' Remus says._

_James and Peter are still squabbling behind them._

_'No, it…it does. Remus, listen. That night, when we saw you - '_   
_'I don't - '_   
_'It was awful.'_   
_Remus shouldn't be surprised but it still feels like being punched in the stomach. 'I know, I - '_   
_'I think the wolf's lonely.'_   
_'I - sorry?'_   
_'Look,' Sirius says. 'I know you don't…you said you never remember much. But it was howling and snarling and throwing itself about, and it didn't even notice when it hurt itself. I just got the feeling it was lonely and frightened. That's how I'd feel if - '_   
_'It's a monster,' Remus whispers._   
_'How can we know that if we've never even met it?'_   
_'I just. I do. Sirius, I know.'_

_Sirius is silent for a long time. The others must have left the dorm because all Remus can hear is the creaking wind and the gentle skittering of bundimuns._

_Finally Sirius says, 'Just think about it?'_

  


~

  


'Harry got off.'   
'Yes. I heard.'   
'And tomorrow the kids are all leaving for Hogwarts.'   
'It's going to seem very quiet.'   
Sirius's smile is twisted. 'Just me and Kreacher and Mother's portrait.'   
'What about Arthur and Molly?'   
'The good people of Ottery St Catchpole believe that they're spending the summer in Margate.'   
'So - '   
'So it's fucking September, isn't it?' 

Remus has been away for almost three weeks and it's startling how much Grimmauld Place (the uncanny chill and creaking floorboards and the clatter and chatter of adolescents) feels like home now he's back. Sirius, though, doesn't look great. He's paler and more gaunt than ever and the circles under his eyes are like coffee stains. 

He shadows Remus down to the basement as if he can't quite let him out of his sight. Remus is simultaneously touched and troubled but he's distracted by the spectacle that meets him in the kitchen. The room is festooned with banners and balloons and Molly's decorating a huge scarlet cake. 

'What's all this?' Remus asks.   
'Dumbledore's made Ron and Hermione prefects!' Molly's face is radiant.   
Sirius's lip curls dangerously. 'Really?' he says. 'How perfectly marvellous.' 

Sirius has already confided to Remus that he considers Hermione _a bit of a swot._ Remus let it go at the time because of all the mad and maddening aspects of Sirius's thought processes it seemed among the least important. But this, Remus thinks wryly, is only going to cement Sirius's opinion, and is going to lower Ron too in his estimation. 

'I think Harry's a little disappointed,' Molly adds, sounding slightly less euphoric. 'He's trying to put on a brave face, but…well. It does seem a bit unfair, doesn't it?'   
The horror on Sirius's face is almost ludicrous. _'Disappointed?'_ he repeats.   
'Poor boy.' Molly sighs. 'I suppose Dumbledore has his reasons.' She turns away and starts to fuss with a large red and gold rosette.   
Sirius opens his mouth to speak and closes it when Remus elbows him in the ribs.   
'Yes,' Remus says. 'He probably does.' 

Sirius makes faces and rolls his eyes as Remus drags him out of the room but at least he keeps his mouth shut. It's only when they reach the pantry that he hisses, with exasperation, _'What?'_

'Sirius, Ron and Hermione are Harry's _best friends.'_   
'Yes.' Sirius scowls. 'I've noticed.'   
'And they're incredibly loyal and incredibly brave. Hermione helped him to save your life!'   
The scowl wavers a little. 'Yes.'   
'They'd risk everything for Harry. Just like you would have done for James.' 

Remus realises his mistake at once, even before Sirius's face turns white.   
'Sirius - '   
'You mean like I should have.'   
_'No,_ I - '   
'Forget it.'   
'It wasn't your fault!'   
'You don't know anything about it!' 

Fourteen years ago that was true. Remus didn't know a thing about the choices Sirius had to make. The terrible responsibility he faced. But it's different now.   
'I do,' he says resolutely. 'Sirius, I _know.'_

Sirius looks disorientated and Remus wishes things weren't so _complicated_. That he could just tug Sirius into his arms, like he did that night in the Shrieking Shack.

When bogey-Sirius, traitor and cold-blooded killer, a creature so improbable he'd always seemed grotesque, disappeared in a puff of smoke. Leaving Sirius-proper, as contrary and stubborn and dramatic as ever, standing (well, technically sprawled on the floor) in his place. 

Instead he puts a hand on Sirius's arm. 'Come on. We've got a party to go to.' 


	10. Chapter 10

_' Arithmancy?'_  
_'Yes.'_  
_' Why?'_  
_'I guess. I just. I like numbers.'_  
_'I thought you picked Care of Magical Creatures!'_  
_Remus ignores the tight feeling in his throat. 'I know,' he says quietly. 'But I didn't.'_  
_Sirius is watching his face carefully. 'We said no more secrets, Remus.'_

_Remus looks down at his white-knuckled hands. 'It's. Um. About Faulkes, I guess.'_  
_'Dumbledore's bird?'_  
_'And the Thestrals too.'_  
_'The what?'_  
_'You know. The invisible horses.'_  
_'Are you talking about the horseless carriages?'_  
_'I - '_  
_'Remus, can you see what's pulling them?'_  
_'No! I mean. Not me. Not exactly.'_  
_'Not...' Sirius's voice trails off and his face changes almost imperceptibly._  
_'Sirius - ' Remus starts, helplessly -_

_He's never told anyone the whole truth. Not even his mam, and he never meant \- _

_'You're both in there?' Sirius asks. He doesn't sound horrified. Just curious._  
_'It's not. It's complicated.' Remus doesn't have words for it._  
_Sirius steps forwards, into his space, and taps on his forehead. 'You in there, little wolf?'_  
_Remus feels hot and cold. Shaky and breathless. 'Don't.'_  
_'Do you want to bite me?'_  
_'No. Of course not.'_  
_'Then what are you frightened of?'_  
_'I'm not. I. Sirius…'_

_Sirius's eyes are like stormy skies._

_And then Sirius swallows and steps back, suddenly looking a bit shaky himself. 'It sucks,' he says, looking away. 'I thought we'd all picked the same subjects.'_  
_His voice sounds a little off but Remus isn't going to call him on it._  
_'Yes,' he says. 'It totallydoes.'_

  


~

  


Tonks is good. Outstanding, really. A little undisciplined but clever and inventive. Remus grins at the jackrabbit patronus that lopes around the room, ears huge and jauntily lopsided. 

'What's yours?' she asks, smiling back at him.  
He raises an eyebrow.  
'Oh.' She flushes a little. 'Of course.' 

Remus hesitates. It's something he's generally reticent about. Something that reveals too much about what he is every day of the week, and not just once a month. But, well, this is Tonks, isn't it? Who hascandy-pink hair and can grow a snout. 

_'Expecto Patronum.'_

Tonks gives a little gasp, and he can't blame her really. The wolf is huge with a predatory stance and a detached, feral gaze. There's nothing human, nothing even dog-like, about the way it lowers its narrow head. About the way sinew and bone shift under its sleek, silver hide. 

'Is that how you look?' Tonks asks softly. 'When you…'  
'Not exactly.'  
'It's _beautiful_ ,' she says.  
Not what Remus had expected to hear and, feeling unsettled, he lets the thing dissolve into silvery wisps. 'Right. Well. We should work on your petrification hex.' 

'How very touching,' someone drawls. _'I'll show you mine if you show me yours.'_

It's Sirius, lounging in the doorway behind them. His expression, for some reason, is pure poison.  
'Hey,' Remus says chipperly. 'What's up?'  
'Nothing,' Sirius says darkly. 'Why would it be? I lurk in corners for fun, don't I?'  
Remus's feels his heart sink. 'Good work,' he says to Tonks, with determined cheeriness. 'Why don't we wrap this up?'  
She nods without meeting his eyes. 'Yeah, sure. I, um. I need to go talk to Bill, anyway.' 

'Go, go,' Sirius murmurs, before she's even out of hearing range. 'Scuttle away.'  
'Sirius, what the _fuck?'_  
'Language, Professor!'  
'What is _in your head?'_  
'What's in yours?'  
'Sirius, please.'  
Sirius's face goes through a number of configurations before settling on sullen and faintly self-conscious. 'Fancies you,' he mutters. 'Doesn't she?'  
_'Tonks?'_  
'Yes.'  
Remus feels as if someone's hit him, hard, on the back of the head. That or they've hit Sirius. 'She's a _child_ ,' he protests.  
'She's twenty-two.'  
'Don't be ridiculous!'  
'I'm not,' Sirius says mulishly. 'It's painfully obvious that she has the hots for you.'  
'Look.' Remus runs a hand through his hair. 'It's possible she has some kind of childish crush, but - '  
Sirius's eyes narrow dangerously. 'Don't try to pretend you're not happy about it.'  
Remus doesn't know whether to laugh or break something. Sirius's beautiful nose, perhaps. 'Merlin, you haven't changed a bit!'  
'I spent twelve fucking years in Azkaban! Forgive me if I haven't grown as a person!'  
'That's not an excuse for being a dick!'  
'I'm not the one flirting with everything that walks!'  
'Is this about Bill again? Because _you do not have the right - '_  
'I knew it!'  
'You don't know fucking _anything!'_  
'I know _you_ , Remus! I know what you're like!'  
Remus can feel his control slipping. 'Sirius, stop this.'  
'Always so desperate to please - '  
'Will you just - '  
'Trying to give them all _what they want.'_ Sirius's sneer is almost a snarl.  
'I don't _belong to you_ , Sirius!' 

Sirius has crowded into Remus's space, his eyes intent and dark. Something feral, something unmistakably _Padfoot,_ in the tilt of his head and the curl of his lip. 

And Remus knows he should submit. Should drop his eyes and bare his throat. But he's too angry, has been too lonely and for too long, and he snarls too and pushes back. 

Shoves Sirius against the wall, and Sirius actually _growls,_ and… 

It goes down like that. 

Afterwards they both sleep like the dead but it's Remus who wakes first. At some point they made it upstairs to Sirius's ridiculously high, elaborately carven four-poster bed. They're tangled up with each other, and with the sheets, and moving doesn't appeal in the least. So Remus lies still and studies Sirius's face. 

The pale skin, the sooty lashes, the narrow grecian nose and ridiculous cheekbones. 

'Stop staring,' Sirius murmurs, without opening his eyes.  
'Missed your stupid face,' Remus says, 'didn't I?'  
Sirius makes a rumbling, satisfied, Padfoot noise in the back of his throat and his breathing slows as he drifts back to sleep. 

The wolf is quiet now. Content. 

And Remus doesn't want to get to tomorrow. Tomorrow there's a war on. Tomorrow there's stupidity and death. 

Tomorrow they're two very different, very lonely men. 


	11. Chapter 11

_'What's up with them?' James asks, once they've rounded the corner from the giggling group of girls._  
_'It's Sirius,' Peter says. 'They think he's dreamy.'_  
_'You what?'_  
_'I heard them talking about it in History of Magic. Jenny Fletcher thinks his eyes are like starry skies, but Connie Clutterbuck told her she was talking tosh, and that he has brooding good looks. And then Jenny said - '_  
_'Alright!' James says, sounding revolted. 'We don't need to hear the gory details!'_

_Remus shoves his hands deep into his pockets and presses his fingers into his palms. It's not as if he hasn't noticed how girls have started acting around Sirius. And he knows it's not surprising really, with Sirius looking the way he does. But there's a heavy weight sitting in his chest and a squirming feeling in his stomach._

_'They're idiots,' Sirius says. 'I mean, who cares if I…what I look like, right?' _

_But he doesn't sound as certain as he usually does or as scornful as he sometimes is. And his cheeks, when Remus steals a glance at him, have turned a little pink._

_James snorts, looking deeply unimpressed. 'Come on, dreamy. We've got Quidditch practise in ten minutes.'_

  


~

  


'The whole Order knows we're shagging.'  
'Oh.' Remus tries to decide whether he minds. 'How?'  
'Mother's portrait. She woke up after the meeting on Tuesday and started on about _sodomites_ and _fornication under her roof_. She was quite graphic.'  
'Merlin.'  
'It was a little awkward.'  
'Do you - '  
'I don't give a flying fuck what anyone thinks about my sex life.'  
'I know. I just wondered if you have any idea how she found out.'  
'Kreacher, probably.'  
_'Merlin.'_  
Sirius grimaces. 'I know, right?' 

Remus has been away all week but Sirius seems to be in fairly good spirits. Molly and Arthur are staying the night because Molly has business on Diagon Alley - and as a result at least a third of the Order appear to have invited themselves for dinner. 

Remus isn't much of a cook. Spent several of the past fourteen years living on firewhisky and Muggle things in tins. But he likes helping Molly in the kitchen and it's a good excuse to talk in private. 

'Sirius says that Mrs Black,' he remarks, as casually as he can, while peeling potatoes that afternoon. 'Um.'  
'I think anyone who was interested had already guessed.'  
'Oh. Right.'  
'Apart from maybe Tonks.' Molly's voice is carefully neutral and Remus's heart shouldn't jump the way it does.  
'Should I talk to her?'  
'No.' Molly says firmly. 'Absolutely not.'  
'Right.' 

He spells the peel off a couple more potatoes and then asks wryly,'Is it that obvious?'  
'He seems a bit more settled in his skin.' Molly smiles. 'You do, too.'  
'It's not…well. I don't know what it is.'  
'What do you want it to be, Remus?'  
Remus floats the last potato into the pan. 'Honestly? Buggered if I know.' 

He and Sirius haven't talked about it, they're just at it like a pair of teenagers. Like they were in that heady summer term at Hogwarts when they first discovered sex. When the frantic kissing and pawing and longing first evolved into the actual act. (Remus has never been sure, thinking back, exactly when that line was crossed.) 

They're a little more dignified now, at least. Back then they seldom got to use a bed. (A few times, in the dorm after lights-out, Sirius crawled into bed with Remus. But James cottoned on pretty fast and announced that if they didn't cut if out he'd bat-bogey hex them both.) 

They're more seemly now, and two decades more experienced, but Remus feels as lust-drunk as an adolescent. Sirius's body is familiar and yet different, and Sirius can push buttons that… 

Remus had forgotten those buttons. 

'Why did you break up in the first place?'  
'Merlin, Molly. Why does anyone?'  
'Usually,' Molly says gently, 'because someone's fallen out of love.' 

Had he? Had Sirius? 

He remembers thinking that Sirius hated him. Remembers sometimes thinking that he hated Sirius back. But the two things aren't exclusive, are they? Hate and love. He never stopped finding Sirius as fascinating as he was infuriating, or as irresistible as he was intolerable. 

When Remus walked out, that January morning, it wasn't because he'd fallen out of love. It was more that they'd run out of possibilities. That Sirius's apartment had turned into a labyrinthine trap, with resentments lurking in every corner and arguments squatting under the kitchen sink. 

'It's been fourteen years,' he says aloud. 'I'm not sure that it matters now.'  
Molly gives his shoulder a squeeze. 'It only matters if it matters to you.' 

The dinner guests are the usual crowd (Tonks, Mundungus, Moody and Bill, who treat Grimmauld Place like a social club) plus several other Order members, including Kingsley Shacklebolt. Tonks flushes a little when Remus greets her but he makes an effort to be cheerful and natural and soon she's acting like her usual self, teasing Bill about his _Amortentia_ aftershave and laughing at Mundungus's terrible jokes. 

The general conversation flows easily and at some point turns to Dolores Umbridge. 

'Dreadful woman,' Kingsley says. 'I mean, those anti-werewolf laws...'  
'Awful piece of legislation,' Arthur agrees. 'Absolutely no call for it. Especially now there's a cure.'  
'There was never a call for it,' Sirius says, with a gleam in his eye that Remus doesn't like.  
'Of course not,' Arthur says quickly, glancing uneasily at Remus. 'I just mean that with the wolfsbane potion - '  
'That stuff is _poison,'_ Sirius breaks in.  
'I know that there are side effects. But you have to admit that in terms of costs and benefits - '  
_'Bullshit,'_ Sirius says. 

There's a startled silence. 

'If I had the alternative,' Tonks says slowly, looking curiously between Remus and Sirius, 'between becoming a blood-crazed monster once a month and - '  
'Blood-crazed monster my arse!'  
'Sirius - '  
'But that's - '  
'What you all learned from some textbook!'  
_'Sirius!'_  
'And the textbooks are wrong?' Tonks asks.  
'A changed werewolf is a _pack creature._ They're intelligent, affectionate magical beings, and we shut them up and ostracise them and basically _torture_ them - '  
'My goodness!' Arthur says. 'Can you really be suggesting - '  
'He's _speculating.'_ Remus says, glaring furiously at Sirius.  
Sirius's chin juts mulishly. 'I'd say I'm something of an expert.'  
'I'd say you're extrapolating from a unique case, and that your interpretation is _highly biased.'_

They're glowering at each other across the table. Remus's blood is thudding in his ears and his face feels hot, because how _dare_ Sirius? This is complicated and personal, and bringing it up in public is below the belt. 

'But this is fascinating!' Arthur says. 'I mean, if you're really telling us - '  
'Arthur,' Molly says loudly. 'Please could you check on the treacle pudding?'  
'Yes, my dear, but - '  
'I think I can smell it burning.'  
'Yes, yes, my love. Alright.' 

Arthur trots obediently across the kitchen, Kingsley says, 'Molly, this really is a splendid spread,' and the conversation flows on harmlessly. Remus looks down at his plate and waits for his heart to stop trying to break out of his chest. 

Tonks nudges her knee, gently, against his. He slides his eyes to meet hers, and finds her looking both puzzled and apologetic. 

Somehow it helps. 


	12. Chapter 12

_'Peter says you kissed Clemmie.'_  
_'She, um. Yes.'_

_How does Peter always know these things? Remus definitely didn't tell him. Not that the kiss is some big secret. Just…Remus isn't sure how he feels about it._

_'Are you going to ask her out?'_  
_'No. I mean. I don't think so.'_

_Sirius scuffs the floor with one shoe. 'All this stuff about girls,' he says. 'It just seems kind of pointless.'_

_Remus isn't sure about that. It was Clemmie who initiated the kiss (Clemmie Took, from Hufflepuff, at the Spring Ball she'd asked him to in the first place) but it's not as if he didn't like it. Her warm fingers against his face and her nose bumping gently into his. _

_'It's alright, I guess.'_  
_'James is obsessed.'_  
_'Lily's different.'_  
_'You like her too?'_  
_'No! I mean…she's not a girl girl. She's kind've cool.'_  
_Sirius huffs a half-of-a-laugh. 'You're right. Which is why she'll never say yes.'_  
_It's impossible not to smile a bit. 'Also because James can be a bit of a prat.'_

_Sirius is definitely unhappy about something. He's scuffing his feet and frowning at the floor with his hands stuffed deep in his pockets. _

_'What about Mary?'_  
_'What about her?'_  
_'Did you. Um.'_  
_'I didn't kiss her.'_

_Sirius took Mary Macdonald to the dance. Mary who's in the year above them and plays beater for Gryffindor. Who's best friends with Lily Evans, definitely not a girl girl, and possibly the coolest student at Hogwarts. _

_'Do you want to?' Remus asks shyly._  
_'What? Kiss Mary?'_  
_'Or. Someone else, then?'_  
_'Why? You offering?'_

_Remus absolutely wasn't, and anyway Sirius is probably joking, but the heat rushes to Remus's cheeks and then Sirius's eyes go wide and startled...and suddenly they're both trapped in the moment._

_'Sirius, I - '_  
_'I only meant - '_  
_'I didn't - '_  
_'Can I kiss you?'_  
_'Yes.'_

_Maybe Sirius is bored because James is mooning over Lily Evans. Or maybe he just wants the practise._

_Right now it doesn't make much difference._

  


~

  


Remus gets to Grimmauld Place at one a.m on Christmas morning. He lets himself in as silently as he can and takes his boots off before padding up the stairs to the third landing. And then there's a rustle in the darkness and Sirius is on him. 

Shoving him back through the bedroom door, clumsy and hungry and careless of the noise they make. 

'Sirius, wait…' 

Only he doesn't really mean it. 

He wakes to a room lit by soft silver light. The house still heavy with silence and sleep. Sirius is sitting with his back against the bed, long legs carelessly spreadeagled in front of him, wrapping gifts. 

'Hey,' Remus croaks.  
Sirius looks round. 'Here,' he says, passing Remus a quill and a gilded gift tag. 'Sign this.'  
_To Harry_ , the card says. _With love from Sirius and_

Sirius has left a space for Remus. 

Remus breathes. Says, as casually as he can, 'What are we giving him?'  
' _Practical Defensive Magic_. The complete set.'  
'Nice.'  
'I thought it might come in handy. For the whole, you know. _Dumbledore's Army_.'  
'Makes sense.'  
Sirius gestures at the box he's wrapping. _Soundproofing Bath Salts,_ Remus reads. _Treat yourself to five minutes' peace._ 'This is what we're giving Molly.'  
'Sirius - '  
'I didn't leave the house,' Sirius says quickly. 'Tonks disguised herself as a rich witch from Paris and went to Diagon Alley for me.'  
It's good they're getting on, of course, but, 'Sirius - '  
'It doesn't have to be like _that_. I just knew you wouldn't have the time. Or, well - '  
'The money.'  
'Yes.' 

Sirius can't access his vault at Gringotts but Walburga Black didn't trust goblins. There are three large chests full of gold galleons in the room currently occupied by Buckbeak. 

Remus swallows. 'Sirius - '  
'It doesn't have to mean anything.' Sirius is looking at the ribbon he's tying. 'Just. It's _Christmas,_ isn't it?' 

And Remus can't say no that, can he? 

It's late morning when he wakes again and the room he's sharing with Sirius is empty. The heavy, embroidered curtains have been pulled back, presumably by Sirius, and there are three presents for Remus at the foot of the bed. 

The first is a thick woollen cardigan from the Weasleys which Remus guesses was knitted by Molly. It's a comment, Remus knows, on his threadbare, patched-together clothes. But he knows too that the intention was kindly. And he couldn't take offence, even if he wanted to, because the Weasleys are almost as poor as he is. 

Tonks must have had the same thought because she's given him an absurdly long, rainbow-striped scarf. It makes him laugh. 

The third present is a small box _._ Remus takes the lid off, and immediately replaces it. Sits very still on the edge of the bed and waits for the pounding in his ears to stop. 

Then he locks the box in a drawer, puts on on his new scarf and cardigan (it's the most comfortably warm he's felt in months, even if he looks ridiculous) and goes downstairs to breakfast. 

The house has been overrun by Weasleys, all loud and excitable and filled with festive spirit. Remus knew they'd be here, of course, because Sirius sent him a carelessly scrawled note. But it's surprising how much he's missed this. The clamour and confusion and chaotic cheerfulness. 

Molly, though, looks pale and drawn. Remus puts his arms around her and she holds him tight for a long moment.  
'Alright?' he asks gently.  
'Just about.' 

In the afternoon they visit Arthur at St Mungo's. To Remus's relief he's awake and alert, although thinner and more frayed than ever. Molly's feelings though, it's clear, are running dangerously close to the surface. Remus, feeling the earth tremble, leaves the whole family to talk in private. He wanders rather aimlessly round the hospital and runs intoFrank Longbottom's mother in the teashop. 

'How nice to see you,' Mrs Longbottom says, taking his hand in a cool, firm grasp. She's a tall, formidably elegant witch but she smiles at him with real kindness. 

Remus explains, in rather vague terms, that he's been visiting a family friend. And then says, 'You're here to see to see Frank and Alice?'  
Mrs Longbottom glances across the room and Remus, following her gaze, sees Neville waiting in the line for tea with a staunch expression on his face. 

It still hurts how much he looks like Alice. He doesn't have her mischievous smile, or her long white neck, or her troublesome dimples. Instead he's a sturdy, solemn kid like Frank was. But the round blue eyes are Alice's, and the fine blond hair, and the stubborn chin. 

'We've been with them since this morning,' Mrs Longbottom says.'But they start getting fretful if we stay too long.'  
'Are they - '  
'The same. The Healers say they're not going to change.' 

Remus has never been to visit Alice. Was too much of a mess himself to start with and in the years that followed simply couldn't face it. 

'I'm so terribly sorry,' he says honestly.  
The important thing now,' Mrs Longbottom says quietly, with her eyes resting on her grandson, 'is to protect what we have left.' 

They get back to Grimmauld Place at teatime and the younger generationdecide to play _sardines._ Once Ron's been rescued from a hexed cupboard the whole lot need feeding again, and once they've all been chased to bedMolly'sin need of several stiff drinks. 

It's very late, in other words, before Remus and Sirius are alone together. Before Remus can get the box back out and say, 'Sirius, what's this?' 

'It's for protection,' Sirius says. 'It's not completely foolproof, of course. But as long as it doesn't get stolen or lost - '  
'I know what it _does_ ,' Remus interrupts. 'But it's not…' He scrubs a hand over his face. 'For a start, you didn't ask _Tonks_ to - '  
'No!' Sirius says quickly. 'Of course not. I know…well. Someone.'  
'And you went to _meet_ them?'  
'Only once.'  
Remus raises his eyebrows.  
'Okay, twice! No one saw me, alright?' 

Remus breathes. And breathes again. He wants to be calm and reasonable but every time he looks at the box his heart tries to jump out of his chest. 

'You accepted everyone else's gifts.' Sirius is starting to sound mutinous and Remus doesn't have to ask who _everyone_ is.  
'Sirius, Tonks gave me a scarf! You've given me an incredibly powerful totem that couldn't possibly be fashioned without resorting to the Dark Arts!'  
'It's for _protection_ ,' Sirius repeats. And now he sounds genuinely hurt. 

He's _ridiculous,_ Remus thinks. As jealous and theatrical as an adolescent. Remus would have been happy with a chocolate frog and Sirius had togo and do this. But... 

Well, it's _Christmas,_ isn't it? 

He sighs and sits down on the bed. 'Merlin.Come here, you idiot.' 

Even though it's really not a fucking chocolate frog. 

It's a silver bullet with his name engraved on it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory (but unseasonal) Christmas chapter!


	13. Chapter 13

_'Stop poking me.'_   
_'What's up with you, anyway?'_   
_'What do you mean?'_   
_'You're being funny.'_   
_'Am not.'_   
_'Are too.'_   
_'I'm trying to read.'_   
_'Is this about Snivellus? You know he can't prove anything.'_   
_'It's not about Sniv - about Severus.'_   
_'What is it, then?'_   
_'It isn't. It's nothing.'_

_Which is actually a big, boggarty lie, but Remus would snog a blast-ended skrewt before he'd admit that to Sirius._

_The truth is that the summer holidays were really tough. That two months in Wales, waiting on Sirius's infrequent and carelessly scribbled owls, have clarified some unpleasant facts._

_He and Sirius do things that are... intimate. But they never really acknowledge it. It's not that Remus wants to hold hands, or say soppy stuff, at least he doesn't think he does. But they never even spend time together (except, obviously, during the above) without including James and Peter. _

_He knew all this last term, of course, but somehow in the fog of lust, of seizing every opportunity, in every convenient nook and cranny, such details hadn't seemed important. Whereas long summer days watching empty blue skies, without the constant distraction of Sirius's presence…_

_It doesn't help that Sirius is a rubbish correspondent, his letters always witty but lacking in content. After three whole weeks of silence, for instance, four lines of brilliantly funny scrawl, and a crude sketch of James falling off his broomstick, did nothing to soothe the pain in Remus's stomach._

_None of this he can ever, possibly, explain to Sirius._

_Sometimes Remus still can't believe he has friends, let alone ones who know what he is. Let alone one who is Sirius. Sirius may be thoughtless, even cruel sometimes, but he's also fearless and beautiful and brilliant. _

_So Remus has decided to be grateful for what he's got. To ignore the unhappiness that keeps trying to swallow him up._

_It's just unexpectedly difficult._

  


~

  


'How many lovers have you had?'   
_'Merlin,_ Sirius!'   
'I'm just curious.'   
'I haven't exactly been keeping count.'   
'That means a lot.'   
'It's been a decade and a half!'   
'Were any of them serious?'   
'A couple. Sort of.'   
'What happened to them?'   
'I don't know. They just...didn't work out.'   
Sirius doesn't say anything but Remus can almost _hear_ him brooding.   
'I only told you because you asked!' 

He shouldn't have, Remus thinks. Should have just told Sirius to fuck off, that it's not important and none of his business. 

Sirius must have had other lovers. In the months before James and Lily died, or during his time in South America. Which is _fine,_ he had every right, but Remus doesn't want to _know about it._ Because he's not an obsessive, masochistic _lunatic._

Remus sighs and gets out of bed. 'I need a coffee. I'll see you downstairs.' 

Sirius gets moodier as the end of the holiday approaches and Remus feels it rub off. He isn't jealous, or not exactly. At least, he doesn't _want_ to be. He _likes_ Harry. Admires him, in fact. His courage and his kindness and his loyal heart. Those bright green eyes, so very like Lily's. But Harry seems to have the exclusive ability to switch the sun on for Sirius. Whereas Remus is just a warm body with some unpleasant memories attached. Or an itch Sirius has to scratch. 

The wolf, tufty-tailed traitor that it is, keeps insisting that Harry's _pack._ It recognises the tenor of his voice. _Prongs,_ it keeps telling Remus. _Cub._

They don't fight about Harry though. The actual content of their fights seems almost arbitrary to Remus. The only topics that recur consistently are the wolfsbane potion and - 

'Sirius, don't be ridiculous. I'm sleeping with you, not Tonks!'   
'And what would you be doing if you weren't a werewolf?'   
_'What?'_   
'I think it's a valid point. You don't think you're good enough for her. But if you could believe you were?' 

Something twists low in Remus's stomach and he wonders if it's partly true. Has he let himself fall into this thing with Sirius because they're both damaged goods? Whereas Tonks seems inaccessibly young and whole. 

He's hesitated a beat too long and Sirius's eyes are narrowing.   
'Sirius - '   
'You're good enough for _me,_ aren't you? For this broken old carcass.'   
'You're not - '   
'Whereas lovely young Nymphadora would be _throwing herself away_ \- '   
'Stop it!' 

They're both breathing fast, standing too close, and the twist of Sirius's mouth is almost savage. So Remus does the only thing he can. 

He pushes forwards. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small WARNING just to be on the safe side:
> 
> There is no dubious sexual consent at any point in this story. However in this chapter Sirius is pushy and controlling and Remus ends up doing something he doesn't want to.

_'Are you completely barmy?' James asks incredulously. 'Severus could've been killed!'_  
_'So what?' Sirius says irritably. 'Horrid little creep, sniffing around after Remus.'_  
_'Killed! Dead, Sirius!'_  
_'Only because he was stupid enough to - '_  
_'By me!' Remus almost shouts. Because suddenly he can't hold it back. 'He would have been killed by me!'_  
_Sirius blinks at him in slow surprise. 'It wouldn't - '_  
_'Wouldn't what?' Remus interrupts furiously. 'Wouldn't have been my fault? I'd've had his blood on my hands.' (On my fangs, he thinks, with a wave of nausea. In my mouth.) 'What do you think my nightmares are about?' _  
_Sirius's face has turned almost white. 'Moony,' he says._  
_But Remus is too far gone now, rage burning hot and bright. 'I'm not your dog, Sirius! You can't just point me at whoever you like!'_  
_Sirius's face has gone from shocked to horrified. 'Remus, I wouldn't. That's not - '_  
_'You did!' _

_And suddenly his eyes are prickling with heat and he needs to get out. To get away from Sirius Black, with his storm-dark eyes, and his carelessly ruffled curls, and the beautiful curve of his mouth. Needs to hide in some lightless, private hole where he can let all the ugly feelings out._

_'Get away from me,' he says._

_And then, because Sirius seems to be frozen to the spot, he grabs his wand and runs out of the room and down the winding stairs._

  


~

  


The school term begins and the full moon approaches and Remus hasn't felt things so vividly in years. Hasn't felt so anxious, or so irritable, or so terrifyingly exhilarated. 

All they seem to do is fight or have sex and Remus can't see a way to _stop._ Can't control the anger or the hunger, and Sirius isn't any better. It's burning through both their skins, like a virulent infection or a vengeful hex. 

Even so perhaps Remus could get a grip if Sirius would just _let up._

'How long did it take you, after you left me?'  
'What the fuck - '  
'Or had you already?'  
Remus suppresses the urge to _howl._ 'For a start, I didn't _leave you._ We _broke up.'_  
Sirius glares at him. 'You packed a fucking suitcase!'  
'There was nothing left to leave,' Remus says, as reasonably as he can. 'You know we'd done nothing but fight for months.'  
_'I_ was left,' Sirius says, chin jutting stubbornly.  
_For Merlin's sake._ 'You never even wrote!'  
'You told me not to contact you!'  
'Since when do you do anything I tell you to?'  
'Since you broke my fucking heart!' 

Remus breathes. 

'I thought you hated me,' he says, more softly.  
Sirius rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. 'Yeah, well. I did and I didn't.'  
'I thought leaving would be better for us both.'  
'It hurt,' Sirius says childishly.  
Remus sighs. 'I know it did.' 

They're not getting anywhere, he thinks. The old problems are all still there, if anything worse than they were before. Sirius's jealousy was bad enough with almost no material to work with. But now Remus _has_ had other lovers, and Sirius can't forgive him for it. And if he ever guesses the whole truth, the whys and whos and just-how-manys... 

Sirius will never understand. Irrational and fanatical as he is, he'll never understand compromise. Never understand that Remus just did whatever he had to to get by. That dignity and self-respect seemed like necessary sacrifices at the time. 

And then there's the matter of the wolf, which - 

'There was no need to talk to Severus like that!'  
'What, because he's not _poisoning_ you?'  
'All he's doing is obeying orders! Instead of taking _stupid risks - '_  
'Don't try to turn this around!'  
'It makes me _safe,_ Sirius!'  
'You spent half of this morning vomiting!'  
'I'm _fine._ It's just the side-effects.'  
'But Padfoot could - '  
'No. Absolutely not.'  
'Moony, listen - '  
_'No,_ Sirius!'  
'But - '  
'We're in the middle of fucking London!'  
'You'd be safe with me.'  
'We can't know that.'  
'But with Padfoot you never - '  
'It's been _fourteen years!'_

They've been alone together all that time. No Sirius. No Padfoot. Just Remus and the wolf. 

The dispute continues throughout the week. Sirius has made his opinion clear on several occasions in the past six months. But now he's mounting a sustained campaign and Remus feels as if he's coming unstuck. The wolf is vibrating under his skin and he wants - he _wants..._  


But Sirius is a fugitive, and Remus is a dangerous magical creature, and they can't go marauding round _central London._ However the wolf responds to Padfoot, even if it's the way it was (and Remus's throat aches at the thought) it's a being wholly driven by instinct, and absolutely without a conscience. Letting it loose in a densely populated metropolis would be complete and utter _madness._

Sirius, though, is impervious to reason. By the evening of the full moon he's an unremitting, obstinate presence. 

'This isn't going to work,' Remus says, as Sirius shadows him up the stairs.  
'I just - '  
'I'm not listening!'  
'Remus - '  
'I'm serious!' 

Sirius follows him into the bedroom that Remus uses to transform. The one that was officially his before he migrated to share with Sirius. The wolfsbane potion is waiting on the nightstand because Remus hasn't taken it yet. Because Sirius just wouldn't _let him alone,_ and also perhaps - 

_No._

Not thinking it. 

'Moony, just listen - '  
'Get out, Sirius.' 

He can feel the wolf trembling with impatience, and if Remus is lucky he's got minutes. But Sirius is holding his ground with a terrifying air of determination. 

'Can't you see what you're doing to yourself?'  
'I'm doing what I have to!'  
'But you _don't!'_

His thoughts are fraying around the edges and the only certain thing is the wolf. A snarling presence at the back of his head, starving and frantic and baring its teeth. 

'Remus.' 

Sirius is standing very close and his eyes are like wells of black ink. 

'No,' Remus says.  
'Remus.'  
'Get away from me.' 

And, miraculously, Sirius steps back. 

Remus stumbles in his surprise. Backwards, knocking against the nightstand. 

Hears something topple to the floor and smash. 

_'Shit,'_ Sirius says softly. 

There's a dark, smoking patch on the carpet and the room smells like arnica. Remus sees everything in slow motion. His own white, shaking hands. Shards of glass. 

Moonlight snaking between the curtains. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another extra-circumspect WARNING for this chapter, which again absolutely does not contain non-consensual sex but does refer to sex which Remus feels unhappy and confused about in retrospect.

_'Is this seat taken?'_  
_Remus shakes his head. He's eating lunch by himself, because James and Peter are sitting with Sirius._

_James is officially not taking sides but Sirius is still his best mate, and Peter goes wherever James does. Remus doesn't exactly resent it but it makes it difficult to eat. Every mouthful is like chewing cardboard and swallowing makes his chest ache._

_'Cool,' Alice says, sitting down. 'What are you reading?'_  
_' Pride and Prejudice.'_  
_'I've never heard of it.'_  
_'It's a Muggle novel.'_  
_'What's it about?'_  
_Remus feels a flush creeping into his cheeks. 'It's. Sort of. A romance.'_

_Alice is in Gryffindor, and in his year, but they've never really spoken much. The truth is that Remus's little gang, although they have serious social cachet, don't mingle much with the other Hogwarts students. And that without Peter, Sirius and James Remus has almost no-one to talk to._

_From a distance, though, he's always liked Alice. She has wide-apart, round blue eyes, and fine blond hair, and dimpled cheeks. He knows that she's dotty about Herbology, that she laughs a lot, and that she got detention in third year for punching Augustus Mulciber in the face._

_'Alright?' Frank Longbottom asks, sitting down on the bench opposite them._  
_And, 'Wotcher,' Gideon Prewett says, sliding into the place next to him._  
_Remus smiles diffidently at them both. He's conscious that they always hang out with Alice, and now he feels awkward and out of place._  
_'How was the game?' Alice asks._  
_'She took me down,' Frank says gloomily. 'It was short, bloody and horrible.'_  
_'Don't beat yourself up, mate,' Gideon says kindly. 'Connie Clutterbuck plays a mean game of chess.'_

_They talk about chess club while they eat their lunch, all laughing at jokes that Remus doesn't get. While Remus pushes his food around his plate and runs his fingers along the worn, comforting spine of Pride and Prejudice. _

_'Come on,' Gideon finally says. 'If we don't get moving we'll be late for Charms.'_

_Remus sits still while they all get up, steeling himself for what happens next. For walking into the classroom by himself. Knowing exactly where his friends are sitting and looking anywhere and everywhere else -_

_'You coming, Lupin?'_  
_'Sorry?'_  
_'To class?'_

_It's Alice, grinning cheerfully down at him._

_'You coming or not?'_

  


~

  


Remus wakes in a state of blissful contentment. 

Sprawled across the bed, limbs heavy and lethargic, blood running warm under his skin. Safely cocooned by Sirius’s presence, by the certainty of belonging. Of _pack._

Reality hits him like a brick to the the head. 

Sirius is asleep beside him, long and graceful, one arm flung carelessly across Remus’s back. He barely stirs when Remus wriggles out from the sheets. 

Remus pulls on his clothes, splashes his face with cold water from the bedroom sink, and goes down to the kitchen without glancing back. 

The wolf’s memories are always difficult to make sense of. Complex patterns of scent, sound and significance, without many words, or even much visual information, attached. A kaleidoscope of both enticing and repulsive odours resolve themselves into London streets, and then there’s the distinctive smell of grass by moonlight. Of cool earth. 

_Hyde Park_ , Remus thinks. _We went to Hyde Park._

He makes himself a cup of coffee, moving automatically. It’s late afternoon, dull gold sunlight sneaking through the narrow kitchen windows. 

He doesn’t remember the taste of blood. 

The high, frightened whiff of a young fox, yes. The fierce hiss of a startled cat. But not the sensation of raw flesh splitting beneath his teeth. 

He pours the coffee with hands that hardly shake. 

Every memory is suffused with joy. The wolf has a small vocabulary of human words, picked up over the years. And the ones that still echo in Remus’s mind are _run_ and _free._ And _Padfoot._

_Padfoot._

_Padfoot._

_Padfoot._

When Sirius says, 'Morning,' behind him, voice still hoarse with sleep, Remus doesn’t look round.  
'Oh,' Sirius says, after a moment. 'You’re mad.'  
'Yes.'  
'Moony - '  
'Just don’t.'  
'Don’t what?'  
'Any of it.'  
'At least _look_ at me!' 

Remus does. Sirius is wearing a pair of pyjama bottoms and nothing else. He has a case of bed-head that, in other circumstances, would make Remus laugh. He’s also looking at Remus like someone considering an animal that might bite. Which, in _these_ circumstances, makes Remus want to actually do it. 

'Moony,' he says again, stepping forward.  
'Don’t touch me.'  
Sirius arches his eyebrows. 'You didn’t seem to mind this morning.'  
Remus feels his face flush hot. 'I was still half feral and you know it.' 

Slipping back into in his human form, filled with a happiness too fierce to contain. And Sirius powerful and beautiful and dangerous... 

'Are you trying to tell me that the _wolf - '_  
'No, of course not! _Merlin,_ Sirius!' 

...so he let Sirius take him apart, and in the first pale rays of the morning sun everything seemed so vivid, and so _perfect..._

Remus sets his coffee cup down on the table with a sharp clack. 

‘I’m going out.’ 


	16. Chapter 16

_'I think Frank likes you.'_  
_'I like him too.'_  
_'Yes, but I mean - '_  
_'Yeah.' Alice doodles aimless shapes in the margin of her parchment. 'I know.'_  
_'Oh.' Remus thinks about it. 'But you don't. Not like that?'_  
_'I don't really know.' Alice scrunches her nose. 'He's just Frank.'_

_Frank is solemn and gentle-hearted and stout and Remus sort of sees her point._

_'What about you and Sirius?' Alice asks._  
_Remus blinks at her. 'Um,' he says._  
_'At first we thought he'd jilted you. But he looks even more miserable than you do.'_  
_'He. Um. He was never my boyfriend.'_

_Does Sirius look miserable? Remus wouldn't know. He's painfully aware of Sirius, whenever they're in the same room. But he can't possibly look at him._

_'He watches you all the time,' Alice says. 'Like, creepy watches.'_  
_'He did something really mean. I don't much want to talk about it.'_  
_'Sorry.'_  
_'It's fine.'_  
_'You're shaking, Remus!'_

_It hadn't occurred to him, not really, that Sirius might be unhappy. Sirius is… Sirius. Why would he get upset over Remus?_

_But if he._

_Just maybe._

_Alice has shifted a few inches closer, so that they're sitting shoulder to shoulder._

_'Sirius Black can be a real plonker. Everybody knows that. But both of you being wretched…well. It doesn't really solve anything, does it?'_

  


~

  


Now that Remus has killed its buzz the wolf is furtive and a little bewildered. _Padfoot,_ it keeps telling Remus plaintively, as if perhaps Remus hasn't noticed. 

_Padfoot._

But the moon is waning gibbous, and Remus isn't speaking to the wolf or Sirius. 

He spends Tuesday on an assignment with Tonks, in a very seedy bar on Knockturn Alley, meeting with some even seedier characters. 

'You alright?' Tonks asks, once the last of their new acquaintances has melted into the shadows.  
'Fine.' Remus smiles at her faintly. 'It's just that they give me the heebie jeebies.'  
It's one way to describe the wolf cringing and yapping at the back of his head. Raising the hackles it doesn't have.  
'Another one for the road?' Tonks asks.  
' _Merlin,_ yes.'  
She grins and orders two shots of absinthe. 

And two more after that. 

'Has there ever been anyone else?' she asks. 'Apart from Sirius?'  
She's quite drunk, Remus realises. They've both been drinking steadily all afternoon, and now there's a pink spot on each of her cheeks, and her eyes are a little out of focus.  
'Um.'  
'Sorry. It's none of my business.'  
'No, it's. After the first war ended. I was a bit of a mess, and I...made some bad decisions.'  
Tonks raises an eyebrow at him. 'Sex, drugs and rock'n roll?'  
Remus grimaces. 'More like drink, depression and no self-respect.'  
'Oh.' She frowns. 'That sounds awful.'  
He shrugs. 'I was twenty one. It's a long time ago.'  
'Do I seem terribly young and dumb?'  
'No. You're not. Young. Not dumb.' He's starting to realise he's pretty drunk too.  
''nother shot?' Tonks asks.  
Fuck it. 'Why not?' 

He slips in time, after that, and then he's talking about Sirius. _Not a good idea,_ he tells himself, but the memo doesn't seem to reach his his mouth.  
'The thing is,' he's saying. 'He's a trauma victim. I _know_ he is. But sometimes I think this is just fucking _Sirius_. That he was always reckless, and paranoid, and _so_ _fucking_ _irrational_.'  
Tonks is resting her head on her hand. Her cheeks are flushed, and her lips slightly parted, and her eyes fixed on his, huge and dark.  
'I'm sorry,' she says. 'It must be tough.' 

She really is a great kid. Brave and funny and intelligent. And also very pretty, now he comes to think of it. 

'Remus?' she says, and he realises he's fallen silent. 

He't too drunk, though, to articulate his thoughts, or to excuse the way he's staring at her mouth. So he leans forward and kisses her instead. 

It's dry and sweet and almost chaste, and then she makes a soft, sweet sound, and pushes forwards, and kisses him back. 

Reality crashes over Remus like a bucket of cold water, and he pulls away so fast he almost falls off his seat. 

_'Shit.'_  
Tonks blinks at him, her eyes still blurred. 'That bad?'  
'No! _No,_ Tonks. Not at all. I mean. _Shit.'_  
'You kissed me first.' 

She looks very young, and very lost. 

Remus breathes. 

'I'm twice your age,' he says. 'And a _werewolf_. And even if I wasn't, there's - '  
'Yeah,' Tonks says dully. 'Sirius.' The alcohol seems to have worn abruptly off. Her cheeks are as red as if they'd been slapped.  
'I'm so sorry,' Remus says. 'Tonks, I - '  
Tonks's mouth twists as if she doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. 'Forget it,' she says. 

She's surprisingly graceful as she walks away. 


	17. Chapter 17

_'When are you going to stop punishing Sirius?'_  
_'I'm not!'_  
_'He's fucking devastated.'_  
_'I…'_

_Devastated?_

_'Look,' James says. 'I get why you're mad. What he did was beyond stupid. But you know how protective he gets, and - '_

_Protective?_

_' - I know he went the wrong way about it, but - '_  
_'I'm not. I don't want…'_

_If he doesn't want to hurt Sirius back then why does he feel so powerful suddenly? It's not the wolf, who doesn't hold grudges. If this is vengeance, it's all on Remus._

_'Can't you just talk to him?' James is asking. James whose ear is finely attuned to the sound of anyone's will-power cracking. 'He thinks you're never going to speak to him again. And to be honest,' he adds, confidentially, 'he's no fun at all to hang out with. All the moping is doing my head in.'_

  


~

  


'Rise and shine, princess.' 

Remus wakes with a thumping pain in his head, a roiling nausea in his stomach, and his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. All these sensations are familiar and perhaps if he didn't want to vomit so much he'd feel curiously nostalgic. 

Through a crack in his eyelids he can see Sirius, a long lean form looming over the bed. 

'Wassup?' Remus croaks.  
'Molly says you need to drink this.'  
Remus opens his eyes to inspect the glass. Its contents are the colour of pond-water and frothing unpleasantly.  
'You're sure you're not trying to poison me?'  
'I'm tempted, but no.' 

Remus pushes himself gingerly onto his elbows and accepts the sinister brew. It tastes as awful as it looks but his stomach settles a little and the pounding in his skull diminishes to a gentle throb. 

'So,' Sirius says conversationally, 'you kissed Tonks.' 

_Merlin on a motorbike_. 

'Told you that, did I?'  
'When you're completely blotto you're like a Shakespearean monologue. Only less poetic.'  
'Crap.'  
'You probably repress too much when your sober,' Sirius adds helpfully. 'Bad for you, that.' 

Remus sinks back down into the sheets and closes his eyes. 'Have you been watching the Mugglevision again?'  
He can _hear_ Sirius shrug. 'It passes the time.'  
'I'm sorry,' Remus mutters into the pillow. 'For what it's worth.' 

Sirius hums. Whatever awful daytime chat-shows he's been watching, they've obviously convinced him that yelling and throwing things are ineffective strategies. 

Remus spends the rest of the day in a nauseous, sore-headed fug, but even so he's acutely aware of Sirius's resentful presence. That night he goes back to his own bed, but he wakes to find Padfoot asleep at the foot of it. 

He's pretty sure that Sirius has nightmares, and sleeping alone probably makes them worse, so for the next several nights he gets into bed with Sirius. They just lie on opposite sides of it, avoid conversation, and don't have sex. 

And by light of day Sirius mostly sulks, with occasional outbursts of savage petulance. 

'Was it because you were mad at me?'  
'Was what?'  
Sirius makes a hissing, impatient sound through his teeth. 'Was that why you kissed Tonks?'  
_Oh, for -_  
'I wasn't trying to punish you, if that's what you mean. But yes, as it happens, I was mad at you. I'm _still_ mad at you.'  
'So you fancy her.'  
_'What?'_  
'If you didn't do it to get at me then you did it because you wanted to.' 

Remus has the familiar sense that he's dealing with an inspired lunatic. Clever and articulate, and relentless in the pursuit of his own bizarre parody of logic. 

'Sirius, I was drunk. And miserable. And, yes, mad at you. But Tonks was just _there._ She was a sympathetic ear.'  
'What if it had been Moody?'  
'Sorry?'  
'If Moody had been _just there_ , would you have kissed him too?' 

The candlestick on the nightstand is beautifully wrought, probably about three hundred years old, and solid brass. Remus wonders how much damage it would do if he threw it at Sirius's stupid face. 

'I very much doubt that Alastor would have put up with three hours of me drunkenly rambling about my love life!'  
'But would you,' Sirius asks stubbornly, 'have kissed him if he had?'  
_'Seriously?'_ It's almost horribly funny. 'Sirius, he'd've carried me outside by the scruff of my neck and dropped me in the Thames!' 

Sirius's lips twitch, but only for a moment. 'Yes, well,' he says snippily. 'You would've deserved it.' 

The wolf whines, low and plaintive, and Remus ignores it. 

If anything dealing with Tonks is worse. 

'We can skip the lesson if you want.'  
'I'd like to work some more on my Confundus Charm.'  
'I just mean - '  
'I've practised a lot since last week - '  
'Tonks - '  
'But I don't think I've quite perfected my technique - '  
'Tonks, I really am _so sorry.'_  
Her face is pale and her lips twitch unhappily. 'I really don't want to talk about it.'  
'It's just, I'm twice your age, and not really human, and I know I took advantage, and - '  
'Remus, you're thirty-six and _very_ human. But you're in love with someone else. I get it.'  
'Tonks, I - '  
'You've already said you're sorry.' 

She's right, there's nothing more to say, and yet he feels oddly thwarted. As if the friendship between them is slipping away. 

'I'd feel better if you were angry.'  
'But I'd feel worse,' Tonks says quietly. 'Wouldn't I?' 


	18. Chapter 18

_'James said I should talk to you.'_   
_'He says I'm being a boring sod.'_   
_'Yes,' Remus acknowledges. 'He mentioned that.'_   
_The corner of Sirius's mouth quirks but the smile dies before it reaches his eyes. He does actually look pretty awful. No less beautiful (of course) but pale and shaken and exhausted._   
_' You could have talked to me,' Remus says._   
_'You wouldn't even look at me.'_   
_'Yeah, well. I was pretty mad.'_   
_'Was?' Sirius asks cautiously._   
_'I don't know.' Remusrubs his eyes. 'Look, I know you said you're sorry. But you'd say that anyway, wouldn't you? Just so I wouldn't keep bothering you.'_   
_Sirius frowns down at his hands. 'Yes,' he says, eventually. 'That's…maybe true.'_   
_' But.' Remus takes a deep breath. 'I miss hanging out. And James says that you. That you miss it too.'_   
_'Remus, I - '_   
_'Just friends.'_   
_'Sorry?'_   
_'I want us to be friends again. But not.' Remus swallows. 'Not the other stuff.'_   
_'Okay,' Sirius says quietly. He looks very serious._

_It makes Remus's chest ache but he can't give Sirius more than this. Has to protect some part of himself in order to survive Sirius Black._

_'Okay,' he says, a little unsteadily. 'Shake on it?'_

_So they shake hands, like they've only just met._

  


~

  


Remus gets back from a three-day mission, at almost midnight, to find Grimmauld Place dark and silent. Sirius is asleep in the drawing room, spreadeagled on an ornate chaise-lounge, with a half-empty bottle of firewhisky inches from his dangling fingers. 

The room is freezing and Sirius's face gleams alabaster-white in the shadows. His cheeks are gaunt and his beautiful mouth, even as he sleeps, has a tense, unhappy twist. 

And Remus is hit by a wave of tenderness so violent that it almost knocks him off his feet. 

_To protect what we have left._

He sets the fire blazing heartily and fetches a blanket from upstairs to put over Sirius's shoulders. Starts a fire in the kitchen too, lights all the lamps so that the room is filled with warm yellow light, and rummages through the cupboards. 

There's not much to work with but he finds potatoes and carrots to make into soup, and brown bread and butter to go with it. 

'You're home.'   
'Hello.' 

Sirius looks fuzzy with whisky and sleep but he's wearing the blanket like a cape and his skin is touched with a warm flush. 

He sniffs the pan. 'What's this?'   
'Soup.' Remus sets two bowls on the corner of the table. 'When did you last eat?'   
'You can talk,' Sirius says. But he sits down meekly nevertheless, and helps himself when Remus brings the food across. 

'No one else here?'   
'Not since you left.' 

Remus was about to sit down too, but he's standing just behind Sirius, and when he puts a hand on Sirius's shoulder Sirius catches it and holds it there. 

'Sirius.'   
'I'm sorry.'   
'For what?'   
'It was your choice to make.'   
'You didn't force me.'   
'I thought about it.'   
Remus swallows. 'You would never have done it.'   
'I - '   
'You _wouldn't,_ Sirius. It was an accident.'   
'But you - '   
'It made me so fucking _happy.'_   
'Moony - '   
'I think that's why I was so angry.'   
'We can - if you _want_ it - '   
'We _can't,_ Sirius!'   
'After the war.' 

Remus breathes. 

'Yes, maybe then.' 

_After the war._

Remus breathes again. 

'Sirius, will I do, in the meantime?' 

Sirius gives a shaky laugh. 

'You're all I've ever wanted, you moron.' 


	19. Chapter 19

_'Hello.'_  
_'Hey.'_  
_'I thought you'd be in class.'_  
_'I'm skiving,' Sirius says blithely. 'I was rather hoping you'd be back.'_  
_'What about the others?'_  
_'We can't all have nosebleeds. Are you alright?' Sirius frowns slightly. 'You look. Um. Not that great.'_

_Last night's transformation was the worst in a while. Thunder always seems to incense the wolf and, in spite of Madam Pomfrey's ministrations, Remus feels achy and light-headed. Still vibrating with agitation and panic._

_'I'm fine,' he says. 'It's just. The storm.'_  
_'You remember?'_  
_'Sort of. The wolf didn't like it.'_  
_'Remus,' Sirius says quietly. 'Remus, we did it.'_  
_For a moment his words make no sense. And then -_  
_'You mean - '_  
_'The storm, Remus! The electrical storm!'_  
_'You - '_  
_'Yes!'_  
_' All of you?'_  
_Sirius is grinning like a madman now. 'Peter's a rat!'_  
_'For real?'_  
_'Yes! And James is a stag. The pretentious twat.'_  
_Remus's heart's trying to break out of his chest. 'What about you?' he manages to ask. 'I mean. Are you - '_

_And then, just like that -_

_He's not much more than a puppy really. Huge and beautiful but a little gangly, with paws he hasn't quite grown into. Bounding joyfully across the dorm, and when he jumps up Remus falls over backwards._

_'Sirius, no licking! Stop that!'_

_He's laughing up into storm-grey eyes and there's thick dark fur beneath his hands. Bigger than the wolf, Remus thinks. Sirius is still taller than Remus, so that probably makes sense. _

_And something starts to unravel in Remus's chest. A knot of loneliness that's been there for so long he'd almost stopped noticing it._

_The wolf doesn't know many words, but one of them is pack._

~

'Were we really such plonkers?' Sirius asks, after Harry's face disappears from the fireplace.  
Remus kisses his cheek. 'You could be, sometimes.'  
'Why did you put up with us?'  
'You weren't plonkers to _me_. Well.' Remus smiles. 'Not usually.'  
'And Harry's really nothing like us.'  
'He sticks up for the underdog. He's Lily's kid.'  
Sirius's lips twitch. 'I'd forgotten what a firecracker she was.'  
'She certainly didn't take James's shit.'  
'Brilliant girl.'  
'Yes.'  
They've moved unthinkingly into each other. Sirius's hands on Remus's waist and Remus's resting on Sirius's chest. Close enough that they almost fit. 

The past three months have been peaceful ones, at least within Grimmauld Place's somber walls. Remus doesn't know what they're doing right, just that between them there's something sweet. Something tender and private and safe. Sirius is still too thin and too pale but the circles under his eyes have faded, and so, Remus thinks, have the nightmares. He whistles to himself as he moves round the house, drinks less heavily and laughs more naturally, and has taken to stealing up on Remus with hungry hands and half-playful kisses. 

There's still a war on out there of course. One grim business after another. Dumbledore's a fugitive, and now there's Severus's perplexing behaviour. The latter, Remus reflects uneasily, will obviously have to be addressed. Severus is endangering Harry's welfare, and Merlin knows how much else, for the sake of an adolescent grudge. 

But Sirius is here and whole and warm, with his long, sooty lashes and tangled dark curls... 

'Sickle for them?'  
'I was thinking how beautiful you are.'  
'You always were soppy.'  
'Yes. I know.' 

A little while later Sirius says, 'I've been thinking.'  
'Hmm?'  
'When the war's over.' 

Remus feels a little drugged. Firelight, and firewhisky, and Sirius's body warm against his. Bruised lips. 

Nevertheless it makes him shiver. _When the war's over._

'I was thinking,' Sirius is saying, 'that Harry needs a proper home. We could find somewhere in the countryside. Somewhere a long way from everything, and everyone.' 

_Somewhere safe for the wolf,_ Remus thinks. Miles and miles of wild terrain, where the wolf could go marauding with Padfoot. 

'What about Wales?'  
'Is that what you'd like?'  
'I think I might.'  
'Yes. Alright.' 

Later in the afternoon there's a rude interruption. A crash in the hallway that makes Remus wince (always conscious of Mrs Black's portrait), followed by several muffled thumps, and a couple of snorting laughs. And then, 'Anyone home?' someone yells from the staircase. 

'Here,' Sirius calls lazily, before Remus has time to recover himself. In fact Remus is barely decent by the time the Weasley twins stroll into the room, lanky and freckled and radiating mischief. 

'Fred and George,' Sirius says casually. 'Or, possibly, George and Fred. What brings you to Grimmauld Place?'  
'Wotcher, Sirius,' says George.  
And, 'Hello,Professor Lupin,' says Fred.  
'We've left school,' says George.  
'For good,' says Fred.  
They both look rather exhilarated, and also a little bit defensive.  
'Expelled?' asks Sirius, sounding interested.  
'Not exactly.'  
'We walked out.'  
'We're of age, you know. We can do what we like.'  
'And with Professor Umbridge about…'  
Remus feels Sirius's hand twitch where it's resting against the small of his back.  
'That bigoted _toad.'_  
'Yeah,' says Fred, sounding relieved. 'So we were planning to move on anyway, and then Harry needed to use her office…'  
Sirius sits up. Glancing to one side, Remus sees that his dark eyes are glittering with interest.  
'Tell us all about it.' 

The twins' tale of joyful anarchy makes Sirius laugh until he's almost in tears. At some point he gets the firewhisky out, and says, 'So what next?' as he generously fills four tumblers. 

Fred and George describe their plans for a joke shop, and when they confide (in strictest confidence) that Harry is their principle investor Sirius's delight couldn't be clearer. He quickly gets involved in the details, quizzing them about products, prices and venues. 

It's dark outside, and they've lit the oil lamps, before Remus thinks to ask, 'Do your parents know where you are?'  
The twins exchange a shifty look.  
'The thing is, they might not be that happy.'  
'Mum really wanted us to get our NEWTs.'  
'Remus can talk to her,' Sirius says. He grins at Remus. 'Molly trusts his judgement.'  
Remus opens his mouth to argue, meets two bright, hopeful pairs of hazel eyes, and closes it.  
'Come on, Moony,' Sirius says softly. 'We can't send them home now, anyway.' 

It's true, Remus thinks, looking at the twins. They've both had three or four glasses of whisky, are both slurring their words, with flushed cheeks. Someone will have hell to pay if Molly sees them like this. 

It's also true that, unconventional as Fred and George's ambitions are, they've demonstrated, over the past few hours, a startling degree of business sense. 

'Fine,' he says resignedly, getting to his feet. 'I'll use the floo downstairs.' 


	20. Chapter 20

_In spite of all the research they've done, Remus panics on the day of the full moon._

_'What if the wolf can tell you're human?'_  
_'Remus, we've been over this!'_  
_'It will know who you are. It already does!'_  
_'Which is why it will trust us! That's half the point!'_  
_'If I hurt you. Any of you - '_  
_'I won't let you,' Sirius says. 'Look, I'm bigger than the wolf, right? I mean, as a dog.'_  
_Heart in his throat, Remus nods._  
_'So if you try to hurt us I'll be able stop you.'_  
_'Promise you will? Whatever it takes?'_

_Sirius catches both Remus's wrists, and for a moment Remus thinks he's going to be kissed. Braces himself reflexively, not knowing whether he wants it or not._

_Of course he wants it. So much that it hurts. But he knows that when it comes to Sirius it will never end at just one kiss. That he'll offer up the whole of himself, even if Sirius doesn't ask._

_And Sirius is arrogant and careless. Is beautiful and quick-tempered and dangerous..._

_But Sirius remains just as he is, his eyes steady on Remus's face. 'I'll keep you safe,' he says. 'I promise.'_

~

Molly and Arthur are surprisingly prosaic ('Well, they've always been very enterprising,' Molly, rather dubiously, says). Sirius and the twins, meanwhile, have discovered that they're kindred spirits, and over the next few weeks Grimmauld Place becomes centre of operations for the nascent _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes._ Fred and George are always in and out, and Sirius sits with them for hours, poring over spreadsheets and charts, or cheerfully participating in (often blood-curdling) experiments. 

Remus has always liked the twins, and can fairly unerringly tell them apart. But he gets to know them better now, and to notice their separate characteristics. Fred is bolder and more adventurous, and George more introspective, and also more self-sufficient. Fred has more, and wilder, ideas, but if they disagree about something George generally wins. 

'It's mum's birthday in three weeks,' Fred remarks casually one evening, while helping Remus in the kitchen.  
'That's nice,' Remus says vaguely, trying to remember the spell for salad dressing.  
'I don't think Dad's planned anything.'  
'I suppose he has a lot on his mind.'  
'But Mum never gets to have any _fun.'_  
'Well. You know, Fred. There's a war on.'  
'She used to laugh all the time,' Fred says. 'She used to think me and George were hilarious. But now she's always too tired or too stressed.' 

And Remus remembers his own parents. How often they'd seemed pale and strained. Him mam biting her lip each month as his dad put the charms on the room in the basement. 

'She's fantastic,' he says sincerely. 'Your mum's one of the bravest people I've ever met.'  
'I know,' Fred says, looking gratified. 'So can we throw the surprise party at Grimmauld Place?' 

'I don't see why not,' Sirius says, when Remus asks him about it that night. 'It's not as if we don't have the space.'  
There's something too casual in his tone and Remus eyes him suspiciously, wondering suddenly if the party was his idea in the first place.  
'What?' Sirius asks innocently, with just the ghost of a smile in his voice.  
And Remus, with a strange lump in his throat, changes the subject with a kiss. 

They're both more settled now, and the sex is different too. Less disorganised and frantic. When Remus is in-between missions Sirius keeps him in bed for hours. Likes to trace every ridge and hollow of his too-thin body. Every protuberant knob of his spine, the dip between his collar bones, the concave plane of his stomach. Almost, Remus thinks (although he can't really bring himself to mind), as if he's re-mapping his territory. 

The vast four-poster in the room they share is actually very comfortable. The room itself has ornate mahogany panelling, and heavy, opaque, embroidered curtains, but the clutter of their shared possessions, of Sirius's unfolded clothes and Remus's ear-marked paperbacks, makes it feel like a makeshift home. 

'This wasn't your childhood bedroom, was it?' Remus asks one lazy morning, while they're tangled together beneath the sheets.  
Sirius shakes his head. 'Regulus and I had bedrooms in the attic. I went up there when I first got back. But.' He grimaces. 'It still has Gryffindor banners on the walls. I don't think anyone had opened the door since I left.' 

As if Sirius had died, Remus thinks. As if they couldn't bear to think of him. 

They'd let his past get buried in dust, like a body left to rot. 

'Big windows,' he says out loud.  
'What?'  
'That's what I'd like, when we get a house. Big windows, and high ceilings. Lots of light.'  
Sirius smiles a little. 'Yes? What else?'  
'Fluffy carpets. And white cotton curtains.'  
A raised eyebrow. 'You've given this some thought.'  
'It should be on a hill. I want to have a view.'  
Sirius is laughing now. 'Is that it?'  
'And a great big garden, that backs onto the woods.'  
'Yes, alright!'  
'All of it?'  
'Yes!' 

Remus barely has a knut to his name, and once upon a time he hated asking Sirius for anything. It was another bone of contention, in fact. Remus scraping together the rent that Sirius didn't want to accept. 

But his pride, these days, seems less important. 

'What about a pond? With ducks.' 

Sirius's eyes have gone happy and soft. 

'I'll buy you the moon,' he says. 'If you want it.' 


	21. Chapter 21

_'So. You know, you're kind've cute.'_  
_Remus feels his cheeks flush. 'What?'_  
_'I mean.' Sirius goes a bit pink too. 'I mean as a wolf.'_  
_'Oh. Right.' His cheeks still feel horribly hot._  
_'You're still a cub, really. Your feet are too big.'_  
_'That doesn't mean I'm not dangerous.'_  
_Sirius grins. 'But not to us!'_

_The thing is, it actually worked. The wolf met Sirius and Peter and James, all in their animagi forms, and greeted them with puppy-like enthusiasm. It licked James cordially on the nose, let Peter sit on its paws, and tumbled playfully with Sirius. They stayed with it for most of the night, and when Remus came back to himself he wasn't bruised and exhausted, like he usually is, but sleepily content._

_He can't really get his head round it._

_'Your eyes are still blue.'_  
_'What?'_  
_'When you change. I mean,' Sirius adds, looking thoughtful, 'you're still kind've you.'_  
_'I'm really not!' Remus protests, his stomach clenching at the thought._

_The other three stay themselves. Animals with human minds. But if the wolf is Remus at all, it certainly isn't the human part._

_'Hey,' Sirius says. 'Don't get upset. I'm just saying I like wolf-you too.'_

~

Things don't go well with Severus. 

Remus intends to talk to him reasonably, and perhaps even reach some compromise. Severus's resentment is understandable. The antagonism may have been mutual, but James and Sirius baited and tormented him, all too often, in a way that was unforgivable. The important point, Remus thinks, is that is was all _two decades ago._ That one of the perpetrators is dead, and the other one is Sirius, and that Harry, whoever's face he wears, is a _teenage boy_ who has _nothing to do with it._

Unfortunately Remus oversleeps on the morning of Severus's next visit, and is woken by the sound of raised voices. 

_Stupid,_ he knew it was today of course. Severus always delivers the wolfsbane potion on the day the moon first waxes gibbous. An unfailing kindness. 

'Because his mother was a _mudblood?'_ Sirius is yelling, as Remus almost throws himself down two flights of stairs.  
Remus is ten steps from the living-room when he hears Severus hiss, 'Don't speak of her like that!'  
'It's what you called her yourself, isn't it?' 

And Remus stops cold before the door, suddenly realising what Harry's little adventure with the pensieve has done. 

It's given Sirius a weapon. 

_'Harry.'_ Severus's voice cracks. 'Harry _told you - '_  
'That you're still nursing a grudge against a dead man? That James humiliated you in front of your teenage crush, and that you never gotover it? Yes!' Sirius says furiously. 'He fucking did!' 

There's a horrible crack, and the floor shakes, and Remus throws open the door to find the room filled with plaster-dust. A significant chunk is missing from the elaborately corniced ceiling. 

Serverus seems to have redirected his wand before actually obliterating Sirius's head. 

'Sirius, out.'  
'What?'  
'You heard me. Leave.'  
'But he - '  
Remus keeps his voice steady, and his eyes on Sirius's face. 'Out.' 

For a moment Sirius looks dangerous. And then he deflates, and rolls his eyes, as if everyone else is making an unreasonable fuss. 'Merlin, al _right.'_

He slouches out with his hands in his pockets, for all the world like a put-upon schoolchild, and Remus turns to Severus. 

'Severus, I'm sorry - '  
'I have nothing to say to you.'  
'What?'  
'You seem to be labouring under the delusion,' Severus says, with icy savagery, 'that I hold you in some kind of esteem.'  
'Look - '  
'My personal feelings, of course, are of little importance. But it seems only fair to disabuse you. I brew you your sedative once a month, at Dumbledore's request. But i feel for you nothing but disgust.'  
'And why's that?' Remus snaps, before he can stop himself. 'Because I'm a werewolf? Or a queer? Or a _half-blood?'_  
'Because you're a _lackey.'_  
_'What?'_  
'All puffed up because they let you into their little club.' Remus doesn't have to ask which _they._ The loathing in Severus's voice makes it obvious. 'Cringing along at their heels like a dog, wagging your tail for scraps of affection - '  
'I was in love with Sirius!' 

It sounds childish to his own ears, and hopelessly inadequate. He didn't pick his friends for being at the top of the Hogwarts food chain, but he still enjoyed the benefits their position gave him. Severus, the loner who fought for himself, has every right to despise him. 

But the fight seems to have gone out of Severus. 'Only Dumbledore,' he says tiredly, 'believes that _love_ excuses anything.' 

And he pockets his wand and walks out of the room, leaving Remus to stare the remains of the ceiling. 

Remus stays there for a long time, watching the dust spiral in the sunlight. Wondering how it came to this, how all those childish muddles and mistakes led to so much hatred and loss. Finally he goes downstairs to the kitchen and makes a pot of strong dark coffee. Is pouring a black, bitter cup when he hears Sirius enter the room behind him. 

'Coffee?'  
'Aren't you mad at me?'  
'Should I be?'  
'You threw me out of the room,' Sirius says. 'After Snivellus started exploding things.'  
'Don't call him that. There's milk in the jug.'  
'You're not mad at me.'  
'I'm not mad at anyone. Well. Dumbledore, maybe.'  
_'You're_ mad at… _seriously?'_  
Remus rubs his tired eyes. 'He pushes us to the limits of ourselves. And he never really tells us why.'  
'Who are you, and what have you done with Moony?' 

But Sirius says it tenderly, crowding a little into Remus's space. 'I heard what he said to you,' he adds softly. 'Sniv…I mean Severus. He was talking bollocks.'  
Remus sighs. 'What are we going to do about Harry?'  
'I'll teach him Occlumency myself.'  
'He wouldn't consent to it. It's too risky.'  
_'Merlin,_ I wish he was less like Lily.'  
'You loved her.'  
'Whatever.'  
'Maybe _I_ could - '  
'Remus...' 

Remus never learned Occlumency. Elphias Doge tried to teach him once, soon after Remus joined the Order, but when he attempted to access Remus's thoughts he turned white and passed out on the spot, and came to looking shaky and nauseous. 'Extraordinary!' Remus remembers him saying.'Your defences, dear boy! They're really quite marvellous!' Remus felt as rattled as Elphias looked, the wolf a ball of tightly wound fury. This town, it was suddenly apparent, was only big enough for its two permanent residents. 

'I know,' he says now. 'I don’t know how. Just. _Fuck.'_

Remus is of average height but he's always been slight and narrow-hipped. And Sirius, for all that he's painfully gaunt, has broader shoulders and tops him by four inches. It doesn't seem unreasonable tostep in close, and slip his arms around Sirius's waist. To just _rest._

'Hey,' Sirius murmurs. Sounding gentle and puzzled. He runs his hands carefully up Remus's flanks, almost as if he thinks he's sick. 

'Moony. Hey. We'll figure it out.' 


	22. Chapter 22

_'I kissed Frank.'_  
_'Oh.'_  
_'Well?'_  
_'What?'_  
_'What do you think?'_  
_'Did you like it?'_  
_There's a pink flush seeping into Alice's cheeks, and Remus grins._  
_'You totally did!'_  
_Alice covers her face with her hands and dissolves into giggles. ' Merlin, Remus!'_

_They messed around together a bit in the early weeks of their friendship. Both a little tipsy on tentacula schnapps, and both decidedly inexpert. It didn't really spark anything off, but it's somehow made them more intimate. It could have been awkward, Remus knows, but instead it's given them a shared frame of reference. A vocabulary for sex._

_'I panicked,' Alice says, once she's caught her breath. 'I basically ran out of the room. I just hadn't expected it to be like that.'_  
_'It'll be alright. It's Frank, isn't it?'_  
_'It's not Frank I'm worried about.' _  
_'You don't have to do everything at once.'_  
_'I sort of really want to, and also don't.'_

_Remus is distracted by the knot in his chest, and realises uncomfortably that he's jealous. Of Frank having Alice. Of Alice having Frank._

_For the first time in years he's not having nightmares. The wolf, even as the full moon approaches, is a bright, almost playful presence. Padfoot, it tells him, often and happily. As they both feel the tug of the waxing moon it repeats the word with increasing confidence. Sometime Prongs, and even Wormtail. But mostly Padfoot. _

_Padfoot. _

_Padfoot._

_But for Remus it's more complicated. A tangle of longing and apprehension. Is Sirius's long, clever fingers idly skimming the pages of a textbook, or his sun-touched skin damp with sweat when he comes back from Quidditch practise. Is the flush in his cheeks when their eyes meet sometimes, as if they're both thinking the same thing, or his flashes of sudden irritability, of cruelty and frustrated petulance._

_'You're thinking about Sirius,' Alice says. 'You've got that funny look on your face.'_  
_'Remus frowns down at his hands. 'Did you hear what they did after the exam on Tuesday? I mean, by the lake. To Severus.'_  
_'I thought that was James.'_  
_'Mostly. I guess.'_

_But somehow, he thinks, it started with Sirius. Sirius who spent the whole day being horrid - his own unique brand of casual unkindness. Picking on Peter, and scoffing at everything, and infecting James with his restless malevolence._

_'Perhaps he's just miserable,' Alice says._  
_'What?'_  
_'I don't mean. Well. It's not your fault.' She slips her hand into Remus's. 'But I daresay it's hard to be nice to everyone when you want someone particular so very much.'_

~

Remus slams the front door closed, and sinks onto his knees. There are black spots dancing in front of his eyes, and the pain in his leg makes him want to vomit. 

Somewhere towards the back of the house he can hear raised voices. 

'But Dumbledore said - '  
'Dumbledore can kiss my arse!'  
'Sirius - '  
'Get out of my way, Arthur!'  
'Sirius, old chap - '  
'Sirius, I'm sure Moody and Kingsley will bring him back. They're the best fighters we have!'  
'I'm not going to sit at home and wait. Arthur, get out of my way!'  
_'Sirius!'_

A door opens with a crash, and furiously rapid footsteps approach. And then - 

_'Remus?'_  
'Hey,' Remus manages to croak.  
_'Fuck.'_

And Sirius is on the floor beside him, pulling him into his arms. Running frantic hands through his hair, kissing his lips, and burying his face in his neck.  
'Ouch,' Remus murmurs.  
'You're bleeding. Remus, _fuck.'_  
''sokay. Flesh wound. My leg.'  
'Oh Merlin. Moony. _Shit.'_  
'Tonks?'  
'She's fine, she got back half an hour ago. She said that you - '  
''sokay. Sirius. I'm okay.' There's sweat, and there's blood, and maybe that's why Sirius's face is wet. And maybe both of them are shaking, or maybe it's just Remus. 'It's just my leg,' he says. 'I just. I need to. Sirius…'  
'To what? Remus? Fuck, stay with me. _Remus.'_

And then he's drifting back to consciousness, and the pain has dulled to a gentle throb. The sheets surrounding him are crisp, and there must be a window open because his cheeks are being cooled by a summery breeze. 

'It's fine,' he murmurs. 'I'm alright.'  
'You are,' says Molly's voice from somewhere. 'But you gave us all a nasty fright.' 

He opens his eyes to find her sitting in a rocking-chair beside his bed. There's a copy of _The Quibbler_ in her lap, but it doesn't look as if she's been reading it. She has heavy bags under her eyes, and not much colour in her cheeks.  
'Sorry.'  
'Don't be daft.'  
'Is Tonks okay?'  
'She came back without a scratch. Said that you pushed her into the Midnight Mirror, and the last thing she saw was you being bitten by that _creature - '_  
Strategic decision,' Remus says. 'She can be turned, and I can't.'  
'You're sure of that?'  
'Do you think we should check? I'll definitely die if you stick a stake through my heart.'  
She gives a funny, choked little chuckle. 'It's midday, and I've opened the curtains.'  
'You're a ruthless woman, Molly.'  
'Aren't I?' 

Remus laughs, and then stops abruptly when every muscle in his body protests. _'Merlin.'_  
'Here.' Molly's on her feet beside him.  
'What's this?'  
'Just water.'  
'Thanks.' 

It's heavenly, in fact, to feel the icy liquid slip down his throat. 

'Sirius okay?' he asks, after a moment.  
Molly frowns. 'He was going to go looking for you himself.'  
'I figured.'  
'Remus, I worry. I know he's happy, in a way, but if anything happens to you, or to Harry…'  
'I know.' Remus lets his eyes slip shut. 'He thinks he let James and Lily die.'  
'I used to think he was terribly self-sufficient. But I've realised recently that he's awfully like Fred.'  
'What do you mean?' 

There's a too-long pause, and then - 

'He doesn't have a heart of his own,' Molly says sadly. 'He's given all the pieces away.' 

It takes Remus a few days to recover, and during them Sirius sulks. It might not be entirely obvious to a non-expert, but Remus is all too familiar with the wooden, offhand manner. 

'Molly told me to bring you this.'  
'Thanks.'  
'Do you need anything else?'  
'You can stay if you want.'  
'I'm in the middle of something with Fred and George.'  
'Do I even want to know?'  
The very slightest of smiles. 'Probably not.' 

By the third day Remus is up and limping about, and conscious of Sirius shadowing him, like a resentful ghost, around the house. 

'Just come here, won't you?' he says, eventually, to the huge black dog watching him from behind the grand piano. He's trying to read _North and South_ on the _chaise longue_ in the drawing room, and its dark, baleful gaze is making it difficult to concentrate. 

It's a bit like having a bear try to sit on his lap. But sometimes, he knows, Sirius finds it easier to be Padfoot. 

Tonks isn't as easy to placate. 

'Nobody asked you to play the fucking martyr!'  
'Tonks, you're human. You were at risk in a way that I wasn't.'  
'It wasn't your decision to make!'  
'As a matter of fact it _was.'_  
'You could have been _killed.'_  
'We're at war. That's always a risk.'  
'War doesn't absolve you of a duty protect yourself!'  
'Merlin, Tonks, I don't have a suicide wish!'  
'So show the people who care about you some respect!' 

She'll grow out of it, Remus thinks. She's brave and loyal to a fault, but eventually she'll figure out that people like him aren't worth investing in. 

The thought makes him feel rather maudlin. 


	23. Chapter 23

With the furniture pushed back against the walls the library is the size of a small ballroom, and that's where they hold Molly's party. A warm summer breeze slips through the open windows, the twins have covered the high ceiling in stars, and an enchanted gramophone plays a muddled collection of old love-songs.

It's inevitably a small event. The available members of the Order, along with the twins, make a gathering of less than twenty. Molly and Arthur probably have dozens of other friends, who can't be invited to Grimmauld Place. But Remus is touched that the twins chose this, chose the one place where Sirius can be a guest, and Molly's face is almost heartbreakingly radiant.

It's after three in the morning when a jazzy, faintly insalubrious tune starts to play, and Molly tugs Arthur into the middle of the room to dance. Laughing as she moves to the music, she doesn't look middle-aged any more, but young and bright and vibrant.

The music seems to be infectious, and soon Moody is dancing with Olympe, and Bill is dancing with Tonks.

'May I?'  
'Sirius...'  
'Remus.'  
'I've got two left feet.'  
'I've got two right.'

Remus can't dance, he's too self-conscious, but it's never seemed to bother Sirius. The music has switched to something slower and Sirius just holds him tightly, and moves them around in unhurried circles.

'I like throwing parties,' Sirius says. 'I'd like to do it more. When we have the house.'

They often talk, now, about _the house._ The white cotton curtains and the pond with ducks. Long, wet walks across windswept hills, fresh eggs for breakfast, and daffodils. Sometimes these conversations frighten Remus, a fear he tries not to think about. _When,_ Sirius always says. His dark grey eyes as soft as rain-clouds.

'Yes,' Remus says. 'I think we should.'  
'Summer parties on the lawn.'  
'Treasure hunts for the children.'  
'Dancing by moonlight.'  
_'Dumbledore?'_  
'What?'

It is, sitting by an open window, with the breeze ruffling his snow white hair. His face serene, and his long, pale hands folded in his lap, as if it's quite natural for him to be there. Remus pulls away from Sirius, and then Molly gives a cry of delight, and suddenly they're all crowding around him, with exclamations of excitement and relief. He smiles at them all with gentle benevolence, quietly deflecting a torrent of questions - Where has he been? Is he well? Is he safe? What is he planning to do about Fudge?

'You know,' he says cheerfully, 'I really think that recent events have been good for my health. A little adventure, at my age, can really be quite stimulating.'  
'But what's to be done?' Arthur asks him. 'I mean, without you there at Hogwarts - '  
'A very pertinent question, Arthur. But not one we can address this evening.'  
'But - '  
'Is there anything left to eat? I wouldn't say no to a little cake.'

So Fred puts the gramophone back on and the drinking and dancing starts again.

'Rainbow layer cake,' Remus says, bringing Dumbledore a slice. 'Baked by Sirius and Fred. I'd, um, avoid the blue layer if I were you. Molly and Mundungus couldn't stop laughing, Arthur got the most terrible hiccups, and George had to leave the room.'  
'Fascinating,' Dumbledore says. 'A dash of twittipationpotion, do you think?'  
'Yes, I rather suspect that's it.'

Dumbledore looks highly amused, peering at Remus down his long nose. And maybe it's because of the cake, but maybe he's really laughing at Remus, who can't keep the happiness off his face, and Merlin, he must look ridiculous. Sirius is dancing with Emmeline Vance, floating round the room in elegant circles, and Tonks and the twins, all very tipsy, are doing bad imitations of muggle disco. Molly's talking to Mundungus, drunk enough to laugh at his jokes, and Moody's dozing peacefully on an upholstered bench, with icing smeared across his battle-scarred face.

And Dumbledore's here. _Dumbledore_. Who showed up twenty-five years ago, at Remus's parents' house in Wales, and played gobstones with him in the sitting room, and ate his mam's ginger cake...and changed the entire course of his life.

Who's been changing the course of it ever since.

'You set me and Sirius up,' he says, 'didn't you? You could see we were never going to sort ourselves out, so you locked us up together in this house.'  
Dumbledore's lips twitch every so slightly. 'You must forgive me,' he says gravely, 'for resorting to such a crude approach. But I can't deny that I'm glad it worked.'  
'I'm glad too,' Remus says honestly. 'I mean, I feel like a bit of an idiot, but...well. What I really mean is thank you.'

To his surprise Dumbledore touches his arm. A light, firm touch with one long-fingered hand. 'There are few things more painful,' he says quietly, 'than finding that the object of our affections is not the person we thought he was. But to learn that he is still worthy of love...that, I think, is a very great gift.'

Remus thinks of the boy he once was, following Sirius with a star-struck gaze. Of how very much has happened since, and of how the hollow-cheeked, damaged man currently dancing with Emmeline still burns like the brightest light in his sky.

'Yes,' he says. 'It really is.'

And perhaps it's because he ate some blue cake, or maybe it's the music and the drink, but he gives in to a sudden impulse, and kisses Dumbledore on the cheek.

He has to rise up on the balls of his feet because Dumbledore's as tall as Sirius is. And Dumbledore's skin, against his lips, is cool and dry and papery thin. He's here, and real, and tricksy, and inscrutable...and fuck, how much Remus loves him.

'Can I have this dance?'

It's Sirius, standing just behind Dumbledore. Half-smiling, and a little combative - because, of course, he's ridiculous.

Dumbledore raises his beautiful hands, and beams serenely at them both.

'Of course,' he says. 'He's all yours.'

~ 

_He wakes up in the Shrieking Shack. Just him and Sirius._

_'Where're the others?'_  
_'Wormtail gets nervous when we play like that. And Prongs gets bored.'_

_When we play like that._

_Racing through the Forbidden Forest. Endless, haphazard games of tag._

_Tumbling together like cubs._

_And there's not a scratch on his skin. Padfoot pounced on him from behind trees, toppled him into puddles, worried at his ears and batted him about with giant paws. But he doesn't have a single bruise._

_The wolf used to go into violent frenzies, locked up in the house by itself. Used to hurl itself against walls and doors, and do frantic battle with tables and chairs. Used to scratch its own face and bite its own feet._

_'Why are you smiling?' Sirius asks. And then, 'You don't...you don't have to. Remus...'_

_And a little while later, 'Moony, are you sure? Because if this isn't what you want - '_

_'Yes,' Remus says. 'I'm sure, Sirius.'_


	24. Epilogue

'Poor boy,' Molly's saying. 'I should have known this was coming.'  
'There's nothing you could have done, my dear.'  
'I just wish I hadn't taken Tonks with me. That was something she didn't need to see.'  
'Well,' Arthur says tentatively. 'Maybe it was good for her.'  
'Arthur,' Molly says sharply, 'what on earth do you mean?'  
'The thing is, she has rather been mooning over Lupin, hasn't she? Perhaps a reality check - '  
'My love,' Molly tells him severely, 'you don't know the half of it.'

Remus is already regretting his own stealth. Wishes he had Tonks' ability to enter every room with a crash. Carefully, he clears his throat, and Molly and Arthur both jump.

'Oh!' says Molly. 'You're up. You look…' Her eyes scan his face. 'Well,' she finishes feebly. 'You're up.'  
Arthur claps his shoulder, but gently, as if he's worried that Remus will break. 'Feeling alright?'  
It's seems a bit late to lie at this point. 'My head doesn't hurt as much as it should.'  
'Fred and George,' Molly says, with a flicker of pride. 'They're surprisingly good at healing charms.'  
Remembering the skiving snackboxes almost makes him smile. 'They did a good job.'  
'What would you like for breakfast?'  
'Thanks, Molly, but I'm not really hungry.'  
'Your options,' Molly says, with a formidable gleam in her eye, 'are fried eggs and bacon, or jam on toast, or kippers with marmalade, or any combination of the above.'  
Remus knows when to concede defeat. 'Toast, please,' he says meekly. 'Can I do anything to help?'  
Her face softens. 'Make yourself some coffee,' she says.

They're in the kitchen of the Weasley's home. Remus doesn't know how he came to be here. Just that he woke, half an hour ago, in what was clearly a teenager's bedroom. His own patched and threadbare clothes, freshly laundered and neatly folded, waiting on a chair.

He murmurs a spell to the kettle, and then asks as casually as he can, 'Tonks okay?'  
'Tonks is fine,' Molly says firmly.  
'I should apologise if - '  
'Absolutely not! I'm not saying Arthur's right.' Molly shoots her husband a quelling glance. 'But it won't hurt her to see that you're human.'  
'Technically I'm - '  
'Don't be daft. I mean that you're not perfect.'  
He'd laugh if it wasn't for the pain in his chest. 'It's a long time since Tonks thought that.'

He manages to force down most of his toast, and then asks, 'What day is it?'  
'Tuesday,' Molly tells him, matter-of-factly. 'You were missing for three and a half days, and you've just spent another one sleeping it off.'  
'Fuck. Molly, I'm so sorry - '  
'Don't be ridiculous.'  
'I should report to Dumbledore - '  
'Dumbledore knows you're at the Burrow.'  
'But - '  
'No buts.' Molly's formidable expression is back. 'The war will still be there tomorrow.'

The war will still be there tomorrow but Remus isn't sure he'll be fighting it. Dumbledore has forgiven him many things, but a three day alcoholic bender in the middle of a critical mission, an utter dereliction of duty and an unjustifiable disappearance...

It's been months since the battle in the Department of Mysteries and Remus hasn't missed a beat. Has done his duty like a clockwork soldier, has worn his body even thinner. But then on Thursday something broke, some overworked cog inside his heart, and...

After the first bottle of firewhisky he doesn't really remember much. 

He doesn't know what to do with himself but Molly sits him on the living-room sofa with a cup of tea and a pile of Quibblers. She pops back every twenty minutes or so, allegedly to refill his mug, and it's not too bad. 

Remus looks at the pictures.

He knows it's Tonks before she says, 'Remus.'  
'Hey.'  
'Are you. Um.'  
He tries to smile. 'Quite compos mentis.'  
Tonks sits down beside him. She looks very serious. 'I wish I'd known.'  
'What do you mean?'  
'What it's been doing to you. But you've been so…' She grimaces.  
'What?'  
'Distant,' she says. 'Cut off. I though you blamed me, and I thought - '  
'Tonks, _seriously?_ It's not about _us.'_  
'Since Sirius died you've barely even _looked_ at me!' 

She sounds very young, and bewildered, and hurt.

'I'm sorry,' Remus says. 'I.' He looks at the magazine in his lap. 'It wasn't your fault. That he. I've never though that.'  
'But?'  
'But we. Me and you. That hurt him, and.' His throat aches. _'Fuck.'_

Tonks puts a small hand on his arm. 'Remus, he was _happy.'_  
'Sorry?'  
'I know a lot of terrible things happened to Sirius. And I wish, as much as you do, that they hadn't. But I saw you both in those last few months. You made him very happy, Remus.'

Perhaps it doesn't really matter. Sirius is gone, and all the moments of his life are equidistant from his present. But it helps, just a little, to think of it like that.

'I was happy too,' Remus says.


End file.
